LIBRARY 

OK   THK 
AT 

PRlxlfCETO.^,  X.  J. 

UUXAI'ION    OF 

SAMUKL    AONKW, 

C,     ^  ^  •■•  t'     H  H  1  1.  A  1.1  K  L  P  H  1  \  .    I-  A  . 


No. ^ 


BX  6495  .C58  A7  1855 
Armitage,  Thomas,  1819-1896 
The  funeral  sermon  on  the 
death  of  Rev.  Spencer 


THE 


ON   THE    DEATH    OF 


REY.  SPENCER  HOUGHTON  CONE,   D.D. 


.>'*»>- . 


.  iiviK  J)aq  it/lsMri'nce- 


THE 


FUNERAL   SERMON 


ON   THE   DEATH   OF 


REV.  SPENCER  HOUGHTON  CONE,  D.D. 


5     x'.a/,, 


LATE  PASTOR  OF  THE  EIRST  BAPTIST  CHURCH, 
NEW  YORK. 


PREACHED    BY    THE 


REY.  THOMAS  ARMITAGE,  D.D. 

SUNDAY  AFTERNOON,  SEPT.  16,  1855. 


Published  by  request  of  the  Church 


NEW  YORK : 

HOLMAN  &  GRAY,  PRINTERS  AND  STEREOTYPERS. 

1855. 


New  York,  September  19, 1855. 

The  First  Baptist  Church.,  Neio  York, 
To  Eev.  Thomas  Armitage,  D.D. 

Dear  Brother: — At  a  meeting  of  the  Members  of  the  First  Baptist  Church, 
held  last  evening,  the  following  resolution  was  unanimously  adopted : — 

"  J?e«o?refZ.  That  the  thanks  of  the  First  Baptist  Church  are  hereby  tendered 
to  all  the  ministering  bretlu-en  who  took  part  in  the  funeral  services  of  our  late 
beloved  Pastor,  and  that  the  Funeral  Sermon  delivered  by  Eev.  Dr.  Ai'mitage 
be  respectfully  requested  for  publication  and  record,  under  the  charge  of  the 
Clerk  of  this  Church. 

Pennit  me  to  express  the  hope  that  you  will  comply  with  the  request  of  our 
sorrowing  Church,  and  believe  me  to  be,  with  great  esteem, 

Tours  in  the  love  of  the  truth, 
SYLVESTER  PIEE, 
Clerk  of  the  First  Baptist  Church,  Neic  York. 


New  York,  September  19, 1855 

Sylvester  Pier,  Esq.,  Clerk  of  the  } 
Fii-st  Baptist  Church,  New  York.  5 

Dear  Sir: — ^Your  communication  of  to-day  is  received,  forwarding  the  reso- 
lution of  the  First  Church,  requesting  a  copy  of  the  sermon  preached  on  the  life 
and  character  of  Dr.  Cone.  It  affords  me  much  pleasure  to  comply  with  the 
request  of  the  Church,  and  I  sincerely  hope  that  this  discourse  may  minister  in 
part,  at  least,  to  the  comfort  of  the  large  body  who  have  so  long  enjoyed  his 
ministry,  and  now  mourn  his  loss. 

Yours,  affectionately, 

THOMAS  AEMITAGE. 


FUNERAL  OF  REV.  S.  H.  CONE,  D.D. 


Eev.  S.  H.  Coxe,  D.  D.,  the  Pastor  of  the  First  Baptist  Church, 
No-w  York,  and  President  of  the  American  Bible  Union,  died  at 
eight  o'clock  on  Tuesday  morning,  August  28th,  1855,  at  his  resi- 
dence, 465  Broome  street.  Previous  to  his  death,  he  had  lingered  for 
eighteen  days  under  the  cifects  of  a  stroke  of  paralysis  which  he  had 
received  on  the  10th  day  of  the  month.  The  intelligence  of  his 
death  spread  rapidly  through  the  city,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  28th 
a  very  large  number  of  the  members  of  the  Church  came  together,  a 
bereaved  and  mourning  people.  It  was  the  time  for  the  weekly  lec- 
ture of  the  beloved  pastor  and  spiritual  father  of  the  Church.  But 
no  lecture  was  given.  All  felt  that  their  father  was  gone ;  and 
they  sorrowed,  because  he  was  not  there  to  lead  the  service,  but 
most  of  all,  because  they  should  see  his  face  no  more.  Eev.  Dr. 
Devan  led  the  exercises,  and  a  number  of  aged  members  poured  out 
their  souls  in  prayer  to  the  God  of  all  grace,  thanking  him  that  he 
had  given  to  them  so  faithful  a  pastor  for  so  many  years,  and  plead- 
ing for  the  continuance  of  his  grace.  At  the  close  of  the  services  the 
following  preamble  and  resolutions  were  passed  : 

JVliereas,  Our  beloved  Pastor  has  been  summoned  to  his  rest, 

Resolved,  That  the  deacons,  with  brethren  T.  T.  Devan,  Eli 
Kelly,  Ezra  P.  Davis,  and  Sylvester  Pier,  be  a  Committee  to  report 
to  the  Church  appropriate  resolutions,  to  be  recorded  on  our  books. 

In  accordance  with  the  arrangements  made  by  the  Committee  for 

the  funeral  services,   a  large   number  of  the  male  members  of  the 

Church,  the  Board  of  Managers  and  many  of  the  Life  Directors  and 

Life  Members  of  the  American  Bible  Union,  assembled  at  the  Bible 

Kooms  at  one  o'clock,  P.  M. 


VI 

After  a  few  remarks  from  Wm.  H.  Wyckoff,  Esq.,  the  Corre- 
sponding Secretary,  explaining  the  object  of  the  meeting,  Eev.  T. 
Armitage,  D.  D.,  Vice  President,  took  the  chair,  and  introduced 
the  solemn  business  of  the  occasion  by  a  brief  and  impressive  address, 
when  all  bowed  the  knee  before  the  Throne  of  Grace,  and  Rev.  C.  J. 
Hopkins,  Pastor  of  the  Bethesda  Baptist  Church,  led  in  prayer. 

Brother  W.  D.  Murphy  proposed  the  following  preamble  and 
resolution,  which  were  cordially  and  unanimously  adopted  : 

Whereas,  It  hath  pleased  God  to  take  to  himself  our  esteemed 
Brother  and  President,  Rev.  Spencer  H.  Cone,  D.  D.,  and 

Wliereas,  The  First  Baptist  Church,  and  the  family  of  our  deceased 
brother,  have  concurred  in  arrangements  for  the  funeral  services  and 
invited  this  Board  to  unite  with  them  ;  therefore 

Resolved,  That  we  cordially  unite  in  the  arrangements  made,  and 
that  we  appoint  Brethren  S.  Baker,  D.  D.,  0.  B.  Judd,  LL.  D., 
Deacon  Wm.  Colgate,  Eld.  E.  Parmly,  and  the  Corresponding  Secre- 
tary, Wm.  H.  Wyckoff,  a  Committee  to  draw  xip  resolutions  expres- 
sive of  our  sentiments  of  affection  and  respect  for  our  departed 
President,  and  our  sense  of  the  loss  which  we  have  sustained  in  his 
death,  and  to  report  the  same  at  our  next  regular  meeting. 

The  meeting  then  adjourned,  and  the  brethren  walked  in  procession 
to  Brother  Cone's  residence,  where  they  met  many  ministers  of  dif- 
ferent denominations,  who  had  assembled  to  manifest  their  regard  for 
the  deceased. 

Prayer  was  offered  at  the  house  by  Rev.  Dr.  B.  M.  Hill,  Corre- 
sponding Secretary  of  the  American  Baptist  Home  Mission  Society. 

The  procession  then  formed  at  the  door,  and  walked,  following  the 
corpse,  slowly  to  the  meeting-house. 

A  silver  plate  on  the  coffin  bore  the  following  inscription : 

SPENCER   H.    CONE. 

Died  August  28,  1855. 
Aged  70  yeai's,  3  months  and  29  days. 

The  bearers  were  William  Hillman,  Joseph  W.  Burden,  W.  D. 
Murphy,  S.  Pier,  AYm.  Cooper,  Wilson  G.  Hunt,  Walter  S.  Mcin- 
tosh, mid  Eli  Kelly,  men  who  had  sat  under  Brother  Cone's  ministry 
for  many  years.  Deacon  Wm.  Colgate,  one  of  Brother  Cone's  ear- 
liest friends  in  New  York,  had  also  been  selected  as  a  bearer,  but 
was  not  able  to  be  present,  being  absent  from  the  ■  city. 


Vll 

Long  before  the  appointed  hour,  the  meeting-house  was  crowded 
in  every  available  part,  and  thousands  went  away  fi'om  the  doors  un- 
able to  force  an  entrance.  Rev.  Dr.  T.  T  Devan  conducted  the 
exercises,  which  were  introduced  by  the  reading  of  a  hymn  by  Rev. 
P.  Church,  D.  D. ;  scriptures  read  by  Rev,  0.  W.  Briggs,  and  a  prayer 
offered  by  Rev.  John  Knox,  D.  D.  Rev.  Dr.  I.  Ferris,  of  the  New 
York  University,  read  the  second  hymn,  and  Rev.  E.  L.  Magoon, 
D.  D.,  Pastor  of  Oliver  Street  Church,  of  which  Brother  Cone  was 
pastor  for  eighteen  years,  delivered  an  appropriate  funeral  address,  re- 
ferring with  great  feeling  to  the  character  and  labors  of  the  deceased. 
He  took  as  the  foundation  of  his  discourse,  "Thoushalt  guide  me 
with  thy  counsel,  and  afterwards  receive  me  to  glory."  Ps.  Ixxiii.  :  24. 

Rev.  C.  Gr.  Soniers,  D.  D.,  led  in  prayer.  After  the  reading  of 
another  hymn  by  Rev.  A.  D.  Gillette,  the  benediction  was  pro- 
nounced by  Rev.  S.  H.  Cox,  D.  D.,  who  also  made  a  few  remarks 
referring  to  his  early  acquaintance  with  the  deceased,  and  his  love 
for  him  as  a  faithful  man  of  God. 

The  audience  then  slowly  retired  from  the  house,  passing  in  front 
of  the  coffin,  to  view,  for  the  last  time,  the  features  of  their  beloved 
friend,  brother,  and  pastor. 

On  Friday  morning,  August  31st,  the  remains  of  Dr.  Cone  were 
borne  by  the  family,  accompanied  by  a  few  friends,  to  Schooley's 
Mountain,  New  Jersey,  and  deposited  in  the  burying  ground  of  the 
Pleasant  Grove  Church,  an  open  cemetery,  the  place  where,  on  the 
15th  of  August,  1854,  only  a  brief  year  ago,  he  had  buried  his  wife. 
It  had  been  selected  by  them  both,  while  living,  as  the  place  of  their 
final  repose  among  the  dead. 

The  exercises  at  the  grave  were  brief.  The  Corresponding  Secre- 
tary of  the  American  Bible  Union  made  a  few  remarks,  the  bene- 
diction was  pronounced  by  Rev.  C.  A.  Buckbee,  and  the  little 
company,  consisting  of  members  of  Dr.  Cone's  family.  Deacons 
Wilham  Hillman,  John  I.  Smith,  William  H.  Burger,  Brethren 
William  D.  Murphy,  John  B.  Durbrow,  Ezra  P.  Davis,  William  H. 
Wyckoff,  and  C.  A.  Buckbee,  Mr.  J.  C.  Young,  three  affectionate 
sisters  in  Christ,  and  a  few  others,  retired  to  their  homes,  feeling 
that  they  had  given  back  to  earth  one  of  the  best  and  noblest  of  God's 
gifts  to  man. 

The  Funeral  Sermon,  which  appears  in  the  following  pages,  was 


Vlll 

preached  at  the  request  of  the  Committee  of  the  Church,  by  Rev. 
Thomas  Armitage,  D.  D.,  Pastor  of  the  Norfolk  Street  Chm-ch,  on 
Sunday,  Sept.  16,  1855,  at  three  P.  M. 

The  meeting-house,  as  on  the  occasion  of  the  funeral  services, 
was  crowded  in  every  part,  and  many  thousands  went  away  from  the 
doors  unable  to  gain  an  entrance. 

A  large  number  of  ministers  from  the  various  churches  wexe  pres- 
ent. The  pulpit  was  occupied  by  Eev.  Archibald  Maclay,  D.  D., 
Eev.  J.  W.  Sarles,  Eev.  Stephen  Eemington,  Eev.  C.  A.  Buckbee, 
Eev.  Samuel  Ba,ker,  D.  D.,  and  the  preacher  for  the  occasion,  Eev. 
Dr.  Armitage, 

The  services  were  introduced  by  the  choir  singing  the  following 

FUNERAL    DIEGE. 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  to  rest ; 

We  Avill  not  weep  for  thee  ; 
For  thou  art  now  where  oft  on  earth 

Thy  spirit  longed  to  be. 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  to  rest ; 

Thine  is  an  earthly  tomb ; 
But  Jesus  summon'd  thee  away — 

Thy  Saviour  called  thee  home. 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  to  rest ; 

Thy  toils  and  cares  are  o'er ; 
And  sorrow,  pain,  and  suff'riug,  now 

Shall  ne'er  distress  thee  more. 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  to  rest ; 

Thy  sins  are  all  forgiven. 
And  saints  in  light  have  welcom'd  thee 

To  share  the  joys  of  heaven. 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  to  rest ; 

And  this  shall  bo  our  prayer : 
That,  when  we  reach  our  journey's  end, 

Thy  glory  we  may  share. 

Eev.  A.  Maclay,  D.  D.,  read  the  following  selections  from  the 
Book  of  Job,  as  revised  by  the  American  Bible  Union,  it  being  the 


IX 


first  occasion  on  which  the  Word  of  God,  as  revised  by  the  Union, 
was  read  from  the  pulpit. 


SCRIPTURE  SELECTIONS 
FROM    THE    BOOK    OF    JOB. 

[revised  version.] 

There  was  a  man  in  the  land  of  Uz,  whose  name  was  Job.  This 
man  was  perfect  and  upright,  and  one  who  feared  God  and  shunned 
evil.  And  he  said  :  Naked  came  I  forth  from  my  mother's  womb, 
and  naked  shall  I  return  thither.  Jehovah  gave,  and  Jehovah  hath 
taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  Jehovah ! 

Now  it  was  the  day,  when  the  Sous  of  God  came  to  present  them- 
selves before  Jehovah  ;  and  Satan  also  came  among  them,  to  present 
himself  before  Jehovah.  Then  said  Jehovah  to  Satan  :  From  whence 
comest  thou?  Satan  answered  Jehovah,  and  said:  From  roaming 
over  the  earth,  and  from  walking  about  upon  it.  Then  said  Jehovah 
to  Satan  :  Hast  thou  observed  my  servant  Job,  that  there  is  none  like 
to  him  on  the  earth,  a  man  perfect  and  upright,  one  that  feareth  God 
and  shunncth  evil  ?  And  still  he  holds  fast  his  integrity,  though  thou 
didst  move  me  against  him,  to  destroy  him  without  cause. 

Satan  answered  Jehovah,  and  said  :  Skin  for  skin ;  and  all  that  a 
man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life.  But,  stretch  forth  now  thy  hand 
and  touch  his  bone  and  his  flesh  ;  if  he  will  not  renounce  thee  to  thy 
face!  And  Jehovah  said  to  Satan:  Lo,  he  is  in  thy  hand;  only, 
spare  his  life. 

And  Satan  went  out  from  the  presence  of  Jehovah,  and  smote  Job 
Avith  grievous  ulcers,  from  the  sole  of  his  foot  to  his  crown.  And  he 
took  a  potsherd  to  scrape  himself  therewith,  as  ho  sat  among  the  ashes. 
Then  said  his  wife  to  him  :  Dost  thou  still  hold  fast  thy  integrity  ? 
Bless  God,  and  die !  But  Job  said  to  her:  Thou  speakest  as  one  of 
the  foolish  women  speaks.  The  good  shall  we  receive  from  God,  and 
shall  we  not  receive  the  evil  ?  In  all  this.  Job  sinned  not  with  his 
lips. 

For  now,  I  had  lain  down  and  should  be  at  rest ; 

I  had  slept,  then  would  there  be  repose  for  me : 

With  kings,  and  counselors  of  the  earth. 

Who  have  built  themselves  ruins  : 

Or  with  princes,  who  had  gold, 

Who  filled  their  houses  with  silver : 

Or  like  a  hidden,  untimely-birth,  I  should  not  be ; 

As  infants  that  never  see  light. 

Now  a  word  was  stealthily  brought  to  me, 

And  my  ear  caught  the  whisper  thereof. 


Tp  tliouglits  from  visions  of  the  niglit, 

When  deep  sleep  falls  upon  men  ; 

Fear  came  upon  me,  and  trembling, 

Wbicli  made  all  my  bones  to  shake. 

Then  a  spirit  passed  before  me : 

The  hair  of  my  flesh  rose  up. 

It  stood  still,  but  I  could  not  discern  its  form ; 

An  image  was  before  my  eyes ; 

There  was  silence ;  and  I  heard  a  voice  : — 

Shall  man  be  more  just  than  God? 

Shall  a  man  be  more  pure  than  his  Maker? 

He  breaks  up  the  devices  of  the  crafty, 

That  their  hands  shall  not  do  the  tiling  purposed. 

In  six  troubles,  he  will  deliver  thee ; 

Yea  in  seven,  there  shall  no  evil  befall  thee. 

My  days  are  swifter  than  a  rmmer  ; 
They  are  fled,  and  have  seen  no  good. 
They  have  passed  by,  like  the  reed-skiffs  ; 
As  the  eagle  darts  upon  its  prey. 

Thy  hands  have  fashioned  me,  and  made  me. 
In  every  pai't ;  and  yet  thou  dost  destroy  me  ! 
Ecmember  now,  that  thou  hast  formed  me,  as  with  clay; 
And  wilt  thou  bring  me  to  dust  again  ? 
And  on  such  an  one  openest  thou  thine  eyes. 
And  me  dost  thou  bring  into  judgment  with  thee  ? 
Who  can  show  a  clean  thing,  out  of  the  unclean  ? 
There  is  not  one ! 
If  his  days  are  determined. 
If  the  number  of  his  months  is  before  thee ; 
If  thou  hast  set  his  bounds,  that  he  cannot  pass ; 
Look  away  from  him,  that  he  may  rest. 
So  that  he  may  enjoy,  as  a  hireling,  his  day. 

For  there  is  hope  for  the  tree. 
If  it  be  cut  down,  that  it  will  flourish  again, 
And  that  its  sprout  will  not  fail. 
Though  its  root  become  old  in  the  earth. 
And  its  trunk  die  in  the  ground ; 
Through  the  scent  of  water  it  will  bud, 
And  put  forth  boughs  like  a  sapling. 
But  man  dies,  and  wastes  away ; 
Man,  of  woman  born, 
Is  of  few  days  and  full  of  trouble. 
Like  a  flower  he  goes  forth,  and  is  cut  off; 
He  fleeth  as  the  shadow,  and  abideth  not. 
Yea,  man  expires,  and  where  is  he ! 
Waters  fail  from  the  pool. 
And  the  stream  decays  and  dries  up  : 
So  man  lies  down,  and  will  not  arise ; 


XI 

Till  the  heavens  are  uo  more,  they  will  not  awake, 
Nor  be  roused  from  their  sleep. 

0  that  thou  wouldst  hide  me  in  the  under-world, — 
Woiildst  conceal  me  till  thy  wrath  is  past, — 
Wouldst  appoint  me  a  time,  and  remember  me. 
All  the  days  of  my  warfare  would  I  wait, 
Until  my  change  come. 

If  a  man  die,  will  he  live  again  ? 
Thou  wilt  call,  and  I  will  answer  thee  ; 
Thou  wilt  yearn  towards  the  work  of  thy  hands. 
There,  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling. 
And  there,  the  weary  are  at  rest. 
The  prisoners  all  are  at  ease. 

Thou  shalt  come  to  the  grave  in  hoary  age, 

As  the  sheaf  is  gathered  in,  in  its  season. 

After  the  above,  selections  were  read  by  Dr.  Maclay ;  Eev.  Dr. 
Samuel  Baker  led  in  prayer,  commending  all  the  afflicted  ones,  the 
family,  the  Church,  the  Bible  Union,  the  Missionary  cause,  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  our  Father  in  heaven.  The  following  hymn  was 
then  read  by  the  Rev.  J.  W.  Sarles,  and  sung  by  the  choir. 

HYMIsT. 

Hear  what  the  voice  from  heaven  proclaims 

For  all  the  pious  dead, 
Sweet  is  the  savor  of  their  names, 

And  soft  their  sleeping  bed. 

They  died  in  Jesus,  and  are  bless'd  ; 

How  kind  their  slumbers  are  : 
From  sufferings  and  from  sins  releas'd, 

And  freed  from  every  snare. 

Far  from  this  world  of  toil  and  strife. 

They're  present  with  the  Lord : 
The  labors  of  their  mortal  life 

End  in  a  large  reward. 

Rev.  Dr.  Armitage  then  px-eached  the  funeral  sermon,  at  the  con- 
clusion of  which,  Dr.  Maclay  offered  a  brief  and  earnest  prayer,  the 
hymn  which  appears  on  the  closing  page  of  this  book  was  read  by 
Rev.  Stephen  Remington,  and  sung  by  the  choir  and  congregation. 
Brother  Remington  pronounced  the  benediction  and  the  assembly 
dispersed,  bearing  in  their  hearts  the  memory  of  a  just  man,  whose 
life  and  labors  had  been  devoted  to  the  welfare  of  his  race  and  the 
glory  of  God. 


o 

K 
o 

D 

a 

o 


tu 

h 

O 


D 
o 
td 
o 


SERMOISr. 


Job.  v.  :  26. — "  Thou  shah  come  to  the  grave  in  hoary  age, 
As  the  sheaf  is  gathered  in,  in  its  season. ^^ 

[Revised  Version  of  the  American  Bible  Union.] 

Any  semblance  of  an  apology  for  the  selection  of  a 
text  from  the  revised  version,  on  this  interesting  occa- 
sion, V70uld  be  sadly  out  of  place.  For  more  than  half  a 
century,  the  divine  strains  of  this  Poem  have  stirred  the 
bosom  of  him  whose  name  and  memory  have  summoned 
this  large  assembly.  It  was  one  of  his  chief  joys,  in  the 
close  of  life,  that  he  had  lived  to  reap  the  first-fruits 
of  his  toil,  to  purify  its  graceful  figures  of  human 
blemishes,  and  to  banish  those  discords  which  jar  its 
flowing  nmnbers  in  our  common  translation.  In  my  last 
interview  with  him,  he  freely  expressed  the  conviction, 
that  for  thoroughness,  beauty,  and  fidelity,  this  version 
of  the  Book  of  Job  is  unequaled  by  any  other  transla- 
tion of  the  same  Book  in  the  world.  From  these  and 
other  considerations,  it  is  eminently  fitting  that  its  new 
harmonies  should  be  first  invoked  at  his  funeral  solemni- 
ties, and  that  its  new  radiance  should  first  kiss  the  door 
of  his  sepulchre. 


2 

Surely,  if  anything  be  inappropriate  on  this  occasion, 
it  is  found  in  the  fact,  that  the  most  responsible  office  of 
this  hour  should  be  confided  to  one  so  much  the  junior 
of  him  who  was  saluted  in  the  streets  by  the  children  of 
three  generations.  It  is  no  light  task  to  speak  rightly 
of  one,  whom  God's  power  endowed  with  greatness  so 
rare,  and  his  free  grace  with  goodness  so  preeminent. 
The  consciousness  that,  among  all  our  tribes,  no  other 
Spencer  H.  Cone  is  left  to  die,  and  a  sense  of  my  own 
utter  incapacity  to  improve  his  death  to  the  best  advan- 
tage, have  greatly  exercised  my  mind,  together  with  the 
thought,  that  there  are  so  many  abler  and  older  servants 
of  Christ,  who  might  have  been  called  to  this  duty. 
And  yet,  my  brethren,  I  find  it  is  not  always  easy  to 
reverence  the  misgivings  of  your  judgment  when  your 
heart  leans  the  other  way.  Moreover,  it  is  a  delightful 
thought,  to  my  own  mind,  that  the  death  of  such  a  man, 
speaks  with  a  pathos,  and  sways  a  potency,  w^hich 
appeal  to  the  heart  with  greater  efficiency  than  any 
utterance  that  can  be  commanded  by  the  living.  Grant 
me,  then,  your  candor,  your  prayers,  and  your  patience, 
while  I  attempt  to  meet  the  necessity  which  you  have 
laid  upon  me.  Your  patience  will  be  as  needful  as  your 
candor.  For  it  is  no  easy  thing  to  crowd  the  transac- 
tions of  seventy  years  into  one  or  two  hours,  with  all  the 
interests  and  endearments  that  nature  and  grace,  respon- 
sibility and  success,  position  and  admiration,  have  thrown 
around  them. 


Beloved  brethren :  I  know  not  how  it  is  with  you ; 
but  for  myself,  I  confess  to  a  feeling,  much  like  that  of 
the  soldier  on  the  battle-field,  who  sees  a  warrior  fall, 
bleeding,  and  pale,  and  dying.  But,  anon,  the  soul  of 
the  fallen  kindles  with  new  fire  at  the  shout  of  the 
battle,  and  half  rising  from  his  blood,  "whether  in  the 
body  or  out  of  the  body  I  cannot  tell,"  he  seems  as  one 
who  forgets  to  die,  that  he  may  cheer  on  the  soldiery  to 
the  triumph.  I  feel  as  one  who  views  here  a  newly 
glorified  spirit,  passing  before  him  among  the  "  cloud 
of  witnesses."  The  vision  is  certain.  "A  spirit  passes 
before  me.  The  hair  of  my  flesh  rises  up.  An  image  is 
before  my  eyes,  but  I  cannot  discern  its  form."  Nearly 
three  weeks  have  passed  away,  since  the  news  flew  from 
one  end  of  the  continent  to  tiie  other,  that  the  venerable 
warrior  had  fallen — for  twenty  days  he  has  "  changed 
from  glory  into  glory,"  with  the  ransomed  throng  which 
"stands  before  the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb,"  and 
yet,  I  can  only  realize  him,  as  last  seen,  in  the  thick  of 
the  contest.  He  was  so  with  us,  and  so  of  us,  and  his 
venerable  form  was  so  familiar  to  us,  that  we  involun- 
tarily look  around  for  him  among  this  body  of  his  fellow- 
Pastors,  to-day.  The  hour  of  worship  strikes — the  gates 
of  the  sanctuary  are  thrown  open— the  great  congregation 
pours  forth  its  praises — and  we  think  he  must  be  here, — 
here  to  raise  his  voice  like  a  trumpet  in  one  of  the  songs  of 
Zion — here  to  plead  with  the  Good  Shepherd  for  a  bene- 
diction on  his  flock — here  to  animate  us  by  his  precious 


expositions  of  God's  holy  Truth.  His  features  are  so 
fresh  in  the  memory,  his  voice  was  so  welcome  to  the 
ear,  his  figure  so  striking  to  the  eye,  and  his  ambassy  so 
precious  to  the  soul, 

"  I  cannot  make  him  dead, 
His  wise  and  hoary  head 
Still  lingers  round  this  pulpit  chair .'" 

Well,  my  brethren,  be  it  so;  be  it  so.  "  The  memory 
of  the  just  is  blessed."  Who  of  you  would  dissolve  this 
enchantment  ?  No.  It  diminishes  the  distance  between 
earth  and  heaven — it  strengthens  the  grasp  of  faith  on 
eternal  realities — ^it  deepens  the  tone  of  hope  for  celes- 
tial fellowship — it  inflames  the  ardor  of  love,  for  the 
full  fruition  of  His  presence  in  "  whom  the  whole  famil}- 
in  heaven  and  earth  is  named" — it  makes  us  sing,  with 
new  ecstacy,  the  exultant  song  of  Peter ;  "Whom  having 
not  seen  ye  love ;  in  whom,  though  now  ye  see  him  not, 
yet  believing,  ye  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full 
of  glory  ;  receiving  the  end  of  your  faith,  even  the  salva- 
tion of  your  souls." 

But,  my  dear  brethren,  whether  we  are  willing  to 
break  the  spell  or  not,  its  reality  dies  like  the  fading 
rainbow,  before  the  annunciation  of  the  text.  "  Thou 
shalt  come  to  the  grave  in  hoary  age,  as  the  sheaf  is 
gathered  in,  in  its  season."  As,  then,  it  is  not  given  us, 
to  look  within  the  vail  after  our  brother,  but  God  has 
required  us  to  "  walk  by  faith  and  not  by  sight" — let  us 
follow  his  faith,  content  to  know  that,  with  him,  "  to  be 


absent  from  the  body"  is  "to  be  present  with  the  Lord," 
for  "  we  are  confident"  that  "whether  present  or  absent," 
he  is  "  accepted  of  Him." 

It  is  not  my  design,  this  afternoon,  to  preach  what 
would  be  denominated  a  methodical  Gospel  sermon.  To 
such  labor,  your  departed  pastor  has  devoted  all  the 
energies  of  his  body  and  mind,  for  the  last  forty  years. 
And  now,  one  of  the  most  profitable  things  left  for  us  to 
do,  is  to  contemplate  all  the  way  in  which  the  Lord  has 
led  him — how  he  was  set  apart  to  the  Lord  from  his 
birth,  by  fervent  and  effectual  parental  prayer — how  he 
was  brought  out  of  the  horrible  pit,  out  of  the  miry 
clay — how  he  was  endowed  with  a  high  order  of  qualifi- 
cations for  the  ministry — how  God  thrust  him  out  into 
the  ministry,  and  crowned  him  with  success,  and  counted 
him  faithful  therein.  We  may  stand  and  wonder,  and 
adore,  and  "glorify  God"  in  him,  as  we  see  Jehovah's 
sovereignty  and  grace  magnified  here.  For  they  are  fully 
made  known  in  his  mental  and  moral  characteristics — 
his  head,  and  heart,  and  walk; — in  his  "doctrine,  manner 
of  life,  purpose,  faith,  long  suffering,  love,  patience,  per- 
secutions, afflictions"  which  came  upon  him  ;  and  in  the 
manner  in  which  the  Lord  delivered  him  out  of  them 
all,  and  brought  him  to  his  "grave,  in  hoary  age,  as  the 
sheaf  is  gathered  in,  in  its  season." 

For  this  end,  I  have  prepared  a  brief  sketch  of  Dr. 

Cone's  life,  with  some  remarks  thereupon  ;  "by  his  fruits 

shall  ye  know"  him.    Men  find  it  as  impossible  to  gather 
2 


grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles,  now,  as  it  was  in  the 
days  of  the  Saviour;  a  good  tree  bringeth  forth  good 
fruit,  and  an  evil  tree  evil  fruit,  still. 

The  narrative  must  of  necessity  be  very  brief,  a  mere 
sketch,  as  I  have  said.  And  I  regret  this  the  less, 
because  you  are  already  quite  familiar  with  the  principal 
current  of  his  life,  and  also  because  steps  have  been 
taken  by  his  beloved  family  to  procure  an  extended  and 
authentic  memoir,  at  an  early  day. 

THE    NAERATIVE. 

Spencer  Houghton  Cone  was  born  in  Princeton,  N.  J., 
on  the  30th  of  April,  17S5.  His  ancestry,  on  his  father's 
side,  can  be  traced  to  the  first  settlers  of  New  England ; 
and  on  his  mother's  side,  to  the  first  colonists  of  Virginia. 
His  father  was  a  high-spirited  and  fearless  man,  remark- 
able for  his  finished  and  gentlemanly  manners,  and  his 
stern  republican  principles.  He  fought  with  great 
bravery  in  the  Eevolutionary  War.  Dr.  Cone's  mother 
was  a  woman  of  great  personal  beauty,  vigorous  intel- 
lect, and  indomitable  moral  energy.  Both  father  and 
mother  were  members  of  the  Hopewell  Baptist  Church, 
in  Hunterdon  Co.,  N.  J.  Their  earnest  and  enlightened 
piety  was  a  subject  upon  which  their  son  loved  to  dwell 
to  the  last  of  his  life.  In  a  sermon  which  he  delivered 
from  this  pulpit,  in  1S44,  he  says,  "My  mother  was 
baptized  when  I  was  a  few  months  old,  and  soon  after 
her  baptism,  as  I  was  sleeping  in  her  lap,  she  was  much 


drawn  out  in  prayer  for  her  babe,  and  supposed  she 
received  an  answer,  with  the  assurance  that  the  child 
should  live  to  preach  tJie  Gospel  of  Christ.  This  assurance 
never  left  her;  and  it  induced  her  to  make  the  most 
persevering  efforts  to  send  me  to  Princeton — a  course,  at 
first,  very  much  against  my  father's  will.  This  she  told 
me  after  my  conversion ;  it  had  been  a  comfort  to  her  in 
the  darkest  hour  of  domestic  trial;  for  she  had  never 
doubted  but  that  her  hope  would  be  sooner  or  later 
fulfilled."  It  may  be  added  here,  that  the  Lord  spared 
her,  not  only  to  see  her  son  converted,  but  also  to  be 
greatly  comforted  under  his  ministry. 

When  Spencer  was  but  eight  years  old,  and  while  he 
was  spending  a  few  months  with  his  grandfather  Hough- 
ton, he  accompanied  him  to  an  annual  Baptist  gathering, 
known  as  the  "Hopewell  Great  Meeting."  Here  he  was 
first  awakened  to  see  his  lost  condition  as  a  sinner.  A 
sermon  was  preached  on  that  memorable  occasion  by  Mr. 
James  M'Glaughlin,  from  Jer.  viii. :  22.  Is  there  no  balm  in 
Gilcad?  is  there  no  jphjsician  there?  "This  sermon,"  he 
says,  "  deeply  affected  me — it  left  upon  my  mind  an 
impression  never  eradicated — a  system  of  theology  never  for- 
gotten; viz.,  1.  Total  depravity.  2.  Universal  condemna- 
tion. 3.  Salvation  alone  by  the  balm  of  Gilead — the 
blood  of  the  Lamb.  I  was  so  affected  by  this  sermon, 
that  for  months,  I  was  afraid  to  go  to  sleep  without  say- 
ing the  Lord's  prayer,  as  it  is  called,  or  some  other  little 
form  taught  me  by  my  mother.      But  the  impression 


8 
wore  off,  and  left  me  thoughtless  and  playful  as  it  found 


me." 


About  two  years  after  this,  he  accompanied  his  mother 
to  hear  a  sermon,  from  Dr.  Ashbel  Green,  of  Philadelphia. 
Dr.  Green  preached  very  powerfully,  from  John  i. :  29. 
^^  Behold  the  Lamh  of  God  ivhich  taJccth  away  the  sin  of  the 
rvo7id"  His  mind  was  again  seized  with  distressing 
convictions  of  his  ruined  condition  as  a  sinner,  of  his 
base  ingratitude,  and  of  the  efficiency  of  the  blood  and 
righteousness  of  Christ  alone,  to  save  him.  For  a  time, 
he  strove  again  to  do  good,  but  strove  in  his  own  strength, 
and  evil,  and  only  evil,  was  present  with  him;  so  that  he 
soon  ceased  to  pray,  and  gave  himself  up  again  to  folly. 

At  twelve  years  of  age  he  entered  Princeton  College, 
and  at  fourteen,  was  pursuing  his  studies  with  avidity, 
when  his  father  was  unexpectedly  taken  away  by  death. 
This  distressing  affliction  "threw  upon  him  the  necessity 
of  retiring  from  college,  that  he  might  devote  himself  to 
teaching,  for  his  own  support,  and  the  support  of  his 
mother,  his  brother,  and  three  sisters.  He  spent  seven 
years  as  a  teacher,  in  Princeton,  Springfield,  and  Borden- 
town,  N.  J.,  and  in  the  Philadelphia  Academy,  Pa.,  which 
was  then  under  the  supervision  of  Dr.  Abercrumbie. 
His  favorite  department  was  in  the  Latin  and  Greek  lan- 
guages, and,  in  the  Bordentown  Academy,  he  had  the 
entire  charge  of  this  department. 

The  next  seven  years  he  devoted  to  theatrical  life ; 
partly,  from  the  assurance  of  his  friends,  that  his  talents 


were  adapted  peculiarly  to  the  stage — and  partly,  that  he 
might  secure  a  better  support  for  the  family.  During 
these  seven  years,  his  mind  was  frequently  overwhelmed 
with  the  fearful  thought  that  he  must  be  converted  or 
perish,  "  for  which,"  he  says,  "  I  render  thanks  to  the 
God  of  all  grace."  His  success  on  the  stage  exceeded 
all  his  expectations,  but  his  associations  there  were 
offensive  to  his  elevated  morality  and  his  love  of  domes- 
tic sanctities,  and,  as  he  forcibly  expresses  it,  "filled  with 
mortification  and  disgust,  I  resolved  to  abandon  the  stage 
for  ever.  And  I  left  a  profession  more  calculated  to 
harden  the  heart,  and  put  away  from  men  the  thoughts 
of  dying,  than,  perhaps,  almost  any  other  in  the  world." 
In  1S13,  Mr.  Cone  was  married  to  Miss  Sallie  Wallace 
Morrell,  of  Philadelphia.  About  the  same  time,  he  took 
charge  of  the  books  and  funds  of  "  The  Baltimore  Ameri- 
can.''^ Nearly  a  year  he  remained  in  this  position,  and 
then  united  with  Mr.  John  Norvell,  of  Ky.,  in  the  pur- 
chase and  conduct  of  "  The  Baltimore  Wltigy  They 
devoted  this  paper  to  the  defense  of  the  doctrines  and 
measures  of  the  Democratic  school,  as  these  were  put 
forth  by  Jefferson,  and  administered  by  Madison.  The 
pen,  however,  was  not  the  only  weapon  he  employed 
for  the  maintenance  of  these  principles.  At  the  call  of 
his  country  he  drew  the  sword,  and  marched  forth  to  the 
field  of  battle,  under  a  commission  from  William  Pinck- 
ney,  that  he  might  vindicate  them  by  service  or  sacrifice, 
as  necessity  should  demand.     Under  this  commission,  he 


10 

entered  Fort  McHenry,  and  stood  bravely  at  his  post  all 
through  the  shower  of  shells  which  tore  up  the  earth  at 
his  feet,  and  tore  his  men  to  pieces  at  his  side,  during  the 
bombardment.  And,  under  the  same  authority,  he  threw 
himself  into  the  hottest  of  the  fight  at  Long-log-lane, 
Bladensburg,  and  Baltimore. 

While  he  was  editing  the  "  JJliig,^^  and  before  he 
went  to  the  field  of  battle,  he  was  made  a  subject  of 
saving  grace.  His  effectual  calling  to  justifying  grace  in 
Christ  Jesus,  was  made  manifest  by  an  astonishing 
and  mysterious  providence  of  God,  which  led  him  to  a 
book  auction,  where  he  purchased  the  works  of  that 
brand  plucked  from  the  burning,  John  Newton.  From 
the  time  that  he  heard  M'Glaughlin  preach  on  the 
"Balm  of  Gilead,"  his  mind  had  never  been  at  rest  on 
the  subject  of  his  salvation.  By  day  and  by  night,  God 
called  him  to  repentance.  At  one  time,  a  frightful 
dream  would  alarm  him.^  At  another,  a  powerful 
sermon  would  arouse  him.  And  at  all  times,  he  stood  in 
awe  of  his  mother's  prayers.  While  he  was  teaching  in 
Philadelphia,  he  accompanied  his  mother  so  regularly  to 
the  house  of  God,  not  only  on  the  Sabbath,  but  also  on 
week-day  evenings,  that  Dr.  Cox  tells  us,  "his  character 
for  morality,  and  for  a  domestic  and  holy  afiection  (I  had 
almost  said)  for  his  mother,  and  other  relations,  had  won 
for  him  a  peculiar  fame,  even  before  he  knew  Christ." 
At  this  time  his  mother  was  a  member  of  the  First  Bap- 

1  For  Notes  1,  2,  3,  and  4,  see  Appendix. 


11 

tist  Church,  Philadelphia.  For  two  years  he  accompanied 
her  to  hear  Dr.  William  Rogers,  and  afterward  Dr.  Wil- 
liam Staughton,  and  although  he  was  greatly  delighted 
with  the  eloquence  of  the  latter,  he  says,  "my  mind  was 
unaffected  by  anything  I  heard."  After  he  removed  to 
Baltimore,  his  soul  became  so  immersed  in  war  and  poli- 
tics, that,  as  he  says,  "he  had  scarcely  heard  a  sermon 
for  a  year,"  when  "  a  voice  like  the  sound  of  many 
waters"  made  him  shudder  in  the  street  as  if  an  earth- 
quake were  rocking  the  city  in  its  arms,  by  sounding  in 
his  ears,  the  cry,  "  Tlds  is  your  last  warning.''''  He  says, 
he  "  trembled  like  an  aspen  leaf" — ^lie  "  felt  himself  to 
be  in  the  grasp  of  the  Almighty" — and  "thought  his 
hour  of  doom  was  come."^  For  months  afterward  he 
was  almost  disqualified  for  labor  or  rest.  He  read  the 
word  of  God,  attended  the  sanctuary,  and  poured  out 
bitter  groans  and  tears  in  prayer  to  God,  until  one  night, 
"when  deep  sleep  had  fallen  upon  men,"  the  Holy 
Spirit  wonderfully  revealed  to  him  God's  method  of 
saving  sinners  through  Christ  alone;  "that  as  sin  hath 
reigned  unto  death,  even  so  might  grace  reign  through 
righteousness,  unto  eternal  life  by  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord."  This  great  discovery  once  made  to  his  soul,  his 
"heart  seemed  to  melt."  He  "felt  as  if  plunged  in  a 
bath  of  blood  Divine."  He  "  was  cleansed  from  head  to 
foot."  "Guilt  was  taken  away" — "tears  of  gratitude 
gushed  from  his  eyes" — he  "  fell  on  his  face  at  the  feet  of 
Jesus  and  gave  thanks,  and  he  was  filled  with  "  a  peace  of 


12 

mind  whicli  passetli  all  understanding."  I  am  liappy 
to  add,  that  in  a  conversation  with  Mr.  WyckofF  and 
myself,  about  a  month  before  his  death,  he  declared, 
that  "  from  that  hour,  although  forty  years  had  passed 
away,  a  doubt  of  his  calling  and  election  of  God  had 
never  crossed  his  mind !" 

This  evangelical  conversion  was  soon  followed  by 
apostolic  baptism.^  For  on  the  next  Saturday  morning, 
Feb.  4,  1S14,  he  was  immersed  in  the  Patapsco,  by 
Elder  Lewis  Richards,  although  the  ice  w^as  a  foot  thick 
at  the  time. 

Scarcely  was  he  baptized,  when  he  felt  that  he  must 
preach  the  Gospel,  and  many  of  his  brethren  urged 
him  to  commence  immediately.  But  he  thought  he 
must  first  spend  some  years  in  preparatory  study.  He 
soon  found,  however,  that  necessity  was  laid  upon  him, 
and  as  "  the  Lord  of  the  harvest"  had  put  a  sickle  into 
his  hands,  and  the  harvest  was  great,  he  must  join  the 
laborers  at  once  and  begin  to  reap.  In  reaching  this 
decision,  he  had  many  a  struggle  with  his  own  heart, 
and  above  all,  with  Satan,  "who  threatened  to  stop 
his  mouth  if  he  attempted  to  preach."^  But  duty,  and 
"the  worth  of  souls"  were  presented  to  his  mind  with 
irresistible  force,  and  straightway  he  left  all  to  preach 
"  Jesus  and  the  resurrection." 

Li  1815  he  was  licensed  to  preach  and  ordained  to 
the  work  of  the  ministry,  by  the  First  Baptist  Church 
in   Washington ;    for,   shortly   after  his   conversion   he 


13 

had  received  an  appointment  in  the  United  States 
Treasury  department,  and  had  removed  his  church 
membership  from  the  First  Church,  Baltimore,  to  that 
church.  In  December  of  the  same  year,  he  was  elected 
Chaplain  to  Congress.  In  March  following,  he  was 
invited  to  labor,  for  a  year,  with  the  Baptist  Church 
at  Alexandria,  Va.  The  church  was  very  feeble,  num- 
bering but  twenty-five  members,  three  of  them  males, 
and  twenty-two  females.  The  meeting  at  which  this 
invitation  was  extended  numbered  but  seven  persons, 
and  it  is  recorded  to  their  praise,  in  the  history  of 
Zion,  that  they  were  seven  of  the  "honorable  women" 
in  Israel.  Another  meeting  was  called  in  April,  at 
which  seventeen  persons  were  present.  On  this  occa- 
sion, Br.  Cone  was  chosen  pastor,  fifteen  voting  foi" 
him  and  two  against  him.  In  May  he  assumed  the 
duties  of  pastor,  which  duties  he  discharged  for  seven 
years,  and  when  he  resigned  his  charge  in  1823,  the 
church  numbered  three  hundred  and  nine  members; 
so  that  two  hundred  and  eighty-nine  persons  were 
baptized  or  received  by  letter,  under  his  ministry  in 
that  church,  and  among  these  were  many  of  the  most 
intelligent  and  influential  persons  in  the  community. 

The  first  sermon  which  Br.  Cone  delivered  in  New 
York,  was  founded  on  Song  of  Solomon  viii. :  5.  "Who 
is  this  that  cometh  up  from  the  wilderness  lean- 
ing upon  her  beloved?"  This  was  in  the  year 
1816.     He  was   on  a  visit   to   the  city,  and  occupied 


14 

the  pulpit  of  the  Mulbeny  Street  Baptist  Church  a 
part  of  the  Sabbath.  This,  and  other  sermons  which 
he  preached  during  his  visit,  left  a  deep  impression; 
and  from  that  time,  frequent  attempts  were  made  to 
secure  his  services  here  permanently.  These  all  failed, 
until  the  year  1S23,  when  he  accepted  a  call  from 
the  Oliver  Street  Church.  For  two  years,  or  there- 
about, he  labored  as  assistant  to  Rev.  John  Williams, 
a  very  holy  and  able  minister  of  the  New  Testament ; 
and  when  his  venerable  colleague  was  called  to  his 
rest,  Br.  Cone  succeeded  him  in  the  entire  pastoral 
charge.  This  charge  he  held  for  sixteen  years  with 
great  honor  and  success,  having  baptized  four  hund- 
red and  forty-five  believers  into  the  fellowship  of  the 
Church  in  that  time. 

By  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  First  Church,  he 
became  pastor  of  this  flock  in  1841.  And  I  need  only 
point  to  the  crowds  who  hung  upon  his  ministry  here, 
and  the  fact  that  he  baptized  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
three  believers  into  the  fellowship  of  this  church,  to 
attest  the  honor  with  which  God  sealed  his  labors  in 
this  place.  AVhile  he  was  pastor  of  these  two  churches 
in  New  York,  he  not  only  discharged  the  immense 
service  which  the  care  of  two  such  bodies  demands, 
but  he  performed  an  incredible  amount  of  labor  for  the 
Baptist  denomination  and  the  cause  of  Christ  generally. 
His  zealous  efforts  in  pleading  for  and  serving  the 
cause  of  missions,  and  the  Bible  cause,  could  not  be 


15 

quenched  by  any  discouragement,  and  were  equaled 
by  few  of  his  brethren.  I  think,  indeed,  it  is  not  at  all 
doubtful,  that  he  carried  on  a  more  extensive  corre- 
spondence with  our  Missionaries  in  all  parts  of  the 
world,  and  raised  more  money  for  benevolent  purposes 
generally,  than  any  other  pastor  in  the  denomination. 
During  these  two  and  thirty  years  and  upwards,  he 
held  the  warmest  place  in  the  affections  and  esteem 
of  the  churches,  and  commanded  the  respect  of  the 
world  generally.  So  great  was  the  confidence  of  his 
brethren,  in  his  ability  and  purity,  that  for  nine  con- 
secutive years  he  was  elected  President  of  the  Baptist 
Triennial  Convention,  which,  at  that  time,  w^as  com- 
posed of  the  Baptists  of  the  whole  United  States.  Even 
then,  they  pressed  him  to  continue  longer  in  this  service, 
and  had  he  consented,  they  would,  doubtless,  have 
reelected  him.  But  he  magnanimously  declined  this 
kindness,  preferring  to  retire,  that  other  brethren  be- 
loved might  share  w^ith  him  these  expressions  of  fra- 
ternal regard.  He  served  many  years  also,  as  Corre- 
sponding Secretary  of  the  New  York  Baptist  Domestic 
Missionary  Society,  and  after  the  American  Baptist 
Home  Mission  Society  was  formed,  he  acted  twelve  years 
as  Chairman  of  its  Executive  Board.  He  was  Moderator 
of  the  Hudson  Eiver  Baptist  Association  sixteen  years, 
and  of  the  New  York  Baptist  Association  eiglit  years, 
which  office  he  filled  in  the  latter  body  at  the  time 
of  his  death.     He  filled  the  office  of  Kecording  Secretary 


16 

in  the  American  Bible  Society  a  long  time,  and  served 
as  President  of  the  American  and  Foreign  Bible  So- 
ciety from  its  formation  in  1836,  to  the  year  1S50; 
and  from  this  time  onward  to  his  death,  as  President 
of  the  American  Bible  Union. 

CLOSING    SCENES. 

The  closing  scenes  of  Dr.  Cone's  ministry  were 
every  w^ay  worthy  of  his  long  and  eventful  life.  From 
the  death  of  Mrs.  Cone,  in  August,  1S54,  he  felt  that 
his  own  work  was  nearly  done.  When  she  who  had 
stood  at  his  side  in  all  the  changes  of  forty  years,  was 
taken  away,  he  realized,  as  he  never  had  before,  that 
hmnan  life  is  bounded  by  three  score  years  and  ten, 
and  that  his  foot  rested  on  the  margin  of  those  bounds. 
The  pain  of  that  event  made  him  tread  the  few  paces 
that  were  left  more  heavily,  and  he  could  not  have 
endured  it  for  a  day,  but  for  the  special  support  which 
he  drew  from  the  precious  promises  of  Christ.  Nay, 
with  all  these  consolations,  it  was  a  blow  from  which 
he  never  fully  recovered.  No  man  could  be  more  de- 
voted to  his  wife  than  was  Dr.  Cone,  to  her  whom 
he  so  tenderly  characterizes,  as,  "  The  wife  of  my  youth, 
the  companion  of  my  age,  the  sharer  of  my  sorrows 
and  my  joys;  affectionate,  faithful,  and  true,  her  price 
was  above  rubies." 

I  can  never  forget  a  scene  which  occurred  in  my  own 
pulpit  on  the  4th  of  June  last,  illustrative  of  his  deep 


17 

sorrow  under  this  bereavement.  A  young  minister  had 
lost  his  wife,  and  had  brought  her  to  the  house  of  God 
where  she  formerly  worshipped,  that  we  might  cele- 
brate her  funeral  services.  Dr.  Cone  was  present,  and 
rose  in  the  pulpit  to  address  the  friends.  But  as  he 
opened  his  mouth  to  speak,  his  eye  caught  a  glance 
of  the  young  brother,  quivering  with  suppressed  grief 
before  the  coffin  of  his  sleeping  wife.  The  sight  was 
too  much  for  his  very  sensitive  heart,  and  he  was 
overwhelmed.  For  some  moments  he  stood  unable  to 
utter  a  word.  The  big  tears  came  pouring  down  his 
cheeks,  and  he  attempted  to  brace  himself  against  his 
emotions,  in  his  own  peculiar  way,  but  failed.  At 
length,  regaining  perfect  control  of  his  heart,  he  said, 
in  tones  of  hallowed  tenderness,  "It  is  hard  to  bury  a 
young  w^ife,  my  dear  brother.  But  when  you  have 
lived  with  one  forty  and  two  years — the  wife  of  your 
youth — the  mother  of  your  children — the  companion 
of  your  lonely  hours — the  undeviating  and  always  re- 
liable friend  of  your  whole  life — then,  indeed,  the  stroke 
is  heavy.''''  These  "lonely  hours"  made  the  good  man 
long  to  die,  and  he  frequently  assured  his  sons  that, 
in  view  of  being  perfectly  holy  in  the  presence  of 
God,  and  in  view  of  his  anticipated  reunion  with  de- 
parted friends  in  heaven,  he  waited  for  the  hour  of 
death,  as  the  hour  when  his  most  ecstatic  conceptions 
of  bliss  would  be  realized.  But  he  felt  that  his  life 
was  not  his  own,  and  he  desired,  above  all  things,  to 


18 

die  in  the  work  of  God,  if  it  were  his  Father's  will. 
Within  the  last  twelve  months,  he  remarked  to  several 
of  his  friends,  that  this  was  his  last  year  on  earth. 
Sincerely  believing  this,  instead  of  shunning  care  and 
toil,  he  rather  created  new  demands  upon  his  ener- 
gies for  both,  that  he  might  fill  up  the  measure  of 
his  days  to  the  glory  of  God.  And  the  Lord  signally 
indulged  him  in  his  desire  to  fall  with  his  harness  on, 
for  as  he  rose  from  this  baptistery,  and  passed  the 
threshold  of  that  door  the  last  time,  the  ministering 
angels  drew  near  "with  the  chariots  of  Israel  and  the 
horsemen  thereof."  From  that  moment  they  watched 
anxiously  for  the  last  gasp  of  the  victor,  that  they 
might  drop  the  chaplet  on  his  "hoary  head,"  and  take 
up  their  triumphal  march,  past  stars,  and  suns,  and 
systems  in  the  ethereal  blue,  to  startle  the  tenantry 
of  unknown  solitudes  with  their  sweeping  swelling 
anthem; — "Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,  enter 
thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 

On  the  ninth  day  of  August,  he  felt  a  numbness  steal- 
ing over  his  limbs,  and  remarked  to  an  old  friend  from 
Virginia,  who  had  called  upon  him,  "I  have  been  labor- 
ing hard  and  incessantly,  from  the  age  of  fourteen,  and 
now  I  feel  my  work  is  done."  On  the  tenth,  he  rose  in 
the  morning  and,  contrary  to  his  custom  for  some  time 
past,  took  the  Bible  himself  to  read  a  portion  at  family 
worship,  instead  of  requesting  his  son  to  read  for  him. 
Twice  he  faltered  in  the  reading,  as  if  his  sight  failed 


19 

him,  wliicli  created  a  slight  surprise  at  the  moment. 
Then  the  family  kneeled  down  together  before  the 
Throne  of  Grace  for  the  last  time!  His  prayer  was 
characterized  by  two  things,  which  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  those  present,  and  left  an  impression  that  will  be 
immortal, — an  unusual  fervency  which  amounted  to  a 
"wrestling"  with  God;  and  a  direct  personality  of  sup- 
plication for  himself,  such  as  he  was  scarcely  ever  known 
to  use  before  at  the  family  altar.  He  prayed,  that  as  a 
shepherd,  he  might  give  up  the  sheep  into  the  hands  of 
the  "Good  Shepherd,"  who  gave  his  life  for  them — as 
a  watchman,  upon  the  towers  of  Zion,  he  might  be  free 
from  the  blood  of  all  men — as  a  steward,  he  mifrht 
render  his  account  with  joy — as  a  servant,  he  might  be 
found  faithful  in  a  few  things  at  least,  and  that  God 
would  accept  himself  and  all  his  poor  services  to  the 
glory  of  his  grace.  Prayer  being  ended,  and  the  sacred 
oracles  being  laid  aside,  he  retired  to  his  room,  where 
in  a  short  time  "  he  was  taken  sick  of  the  sickness 
whereof  he  died." 

Only  five  short  days  before  this,  he  had  preached  to  you 
that  memorable  last  sermon,  from  the  very  appropriate 
words  of  the  Saviour,  "No  man  cometh  unto  the  Father 
but  by  me;"  and  now  he  was  to  feel  all  the  precious- 
ness  of  the  Divine  annunciation.  About  two  hours 
after  Dr.  Cone  was  stricken  with  paralysis,  and  while 
his  physicians  were  anxiously  prescribing  the  method  of 
his  treatment.  Deacon  Hillman  was  endeavoring  to  afford 


20 

him  a  little  relief,  by  bathing  and  rubbing  the  foot  that 
was  paralyzed.  He  looked  down  upon  the  Deacon,  and 
remarked,  with  great  difficulty  of  articulation,  "  I  have 
kept  on  the  harness  until  my  work  is  done.  The  spirit 
of  a  man  will  sustain  his  infirmity,  but  a  wounded  spirit 
who  can  bear?  But  I  have  no  wounded  spirit.  What  a 
blessed  thing  it  is  to  know  that  when  we  leave  this  body, 
we  are  going  to  a  better  place."  He  then  proceeded  to 
quote  several  rich  promises  from  God's  word.  He  also 
spoke  earnestly  of  "  the  covenant  of  grace  ordered  in  all 
things  and  sure;"  for  the  foundation  of  his  faith  was 
laid, 

"  In  oaths,  aud  promises,  aucl  blood." 

After  this,  he  dropped  a  part  of  a  sentence  now  and 
then  to  Dr.  Devan,  one  of  his  beloved  physicians,  but 
they  were,  for  the  most  part,  so  broken  and  disconnected, 
that  it  would  be  unsatisfactory  to  repeat  them  here.  He 
lingered  on  for  eighteen  days,  and  all  that  human  skill 
and  kindness  could  do,  was  done  to  effect  his  recovery. 
But  in  his  own  significant  phraseology,  his  "  tvorJc  was 
doney  And  early  on  the  2Sth  of  August,  about  the  ordi- 
nary time  for  his  family  devotions,  he  came  "  unto  Mount 
Sion,  and  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem." 

How  much  there  is  in  all  this  to  remind  us  of  the 
sublime  spectacle  that  transpired  on  the  summit  of 
Mount  Hor,  in  the  olden  times,  when  Moses  stripped 


21 

Aaron  of  his  sacerdotal  vestments,  that  the  venerable 
High  Priest  of  God  might  die  there.  The  tribes  of 
Israel  stayed  at  the  base  of  the  Mount,  and  wept  in  its 
dark  shadow,  while  Moses,  and  Eleazar,  and  Aaron,  went 
up  to  its  top,  to  see  "mortality  swallowed  up  of  life." 
When  Aaron  reached  the  brow  of  the  barren  Mount, 
"/«s  work  was  done."  When  Moses  stripped  his  en- 
deared brother  of  the  robes  of  the  sanctuary,  O  how  his 
heart  must  have  melted  at  the  thought,  that:  he  should 
listen  to  his  eloquent  voice  no  more.  They  had  lived, 
and  loved,  and  toiled  together  for  the  sacramental  hosts 
encamped  below,  as  the  heart  of  one  man.  Methinks, 
they  fell  upon  each  other's  neck — that  they  spoke  of  a 
reunion  soon  in  "a  better  country,  that  is  a  heavenly" — 
that  they  all  bowed  and  breathed  out  their  last  prayers 
together — Moses  clothed  Eleazar  with  the  consecrated 
vesture  of  his  sire — and  then,  Aaron  gave  forth  his  last 
utterances  of  wisdom  and  resignation — laid  down  npon 
his  granite  couch — closed  his  eyes  upon  his  brother  and 
his  son — and  opened  them  upon  "the  general  assembly 
and  Church  of  the  first-born,  which  are  written  in 
heaven" — and  upon  Jesus,  the  "minister  of  the  sanctua- 
ry, and  of  the  true  tabernacle  which  the  Lord  pitched, 
and  not  man." 

So  here,  our  venerable  father  in  the  Gospel  ministry, 
had  attained  a  full  and  ripe  age,  which  brought  to  him 
but   few   of  its   infirmities,   with    all    its    advantages. 

"Hoary    age"   invested    him   with    all   its   effulgence, 
3 


22 

without  any  of  its  blight.  It  illumined  his  face  with 
wisdom,  and  crowned  his  head  with  "a  crown  of  glory," 
more  beautiful  than  the  diadem  upon  the  blooming 
almond-tree,  without  freezing  the  fountains  of  his  love, 
or  quenching  the  fires  of  his  zeal.  It  breathed  upon 
him  not  to  blast  but  to  beautify.  Not  to  wither  but  to 
perfect.  Death  rushed  not  upon  him,  at  his  post,  like 
a  ruthless  foe ;  but  came  with  soft  and  gentle  steps, 
much  as  the  ray  of  a  star  steals  over  a  slumbering  infant  at 
midnight.  The  "  King  of  Terrors"  seems  to  have  entered 
his  room  on  Tuesday  morning,  as  if  he  knew  that  he  was  to 
encounter  "  a  strong  man  armed,"  who,  unless  he  treated 
him  gently,  would  rise  in  the  strength  of  his  Redeemer, 
and  challenge,  "  0  death,  I  will  be  thy  plagues  !"  So 
instead  of  ruthless  disruption  and  stormy  desolation, 
instead  of  the  roaring  whirlwind  tearing  up  the  golden 
grain  from  beard  to  root,  and  scattering  and  trampling 
it  furiously,  ear  by  ear — instead  of  this,  death  noiselessly 
beckoned  with  his  hand,  saying,  "  Thou  shalt  come  to 
the  grave  in  hoary  age,  as  the  sheaf  is  gathered  in,  in  its 
season;" — and  with  one  thrust  of  the  sickle,  "the  angels 
who  were  the  reapers,"  soared  off  to  the  skies  with  the 
sheaf  in  their  bosoms,  and  were  shouting  "  the  joy  of  the 
harvest  home,"  before  the  loved  ones  of  earth  were 
aware  that  the  spirit  had  fled. 


23 


EEMARKS    ON    THE    NARRATIVE. 

We  have  now  reached  that  delicate  part  of  our  address, 
in  which  we  are  to  notice  the  general  character  of  Dr. 
Cone,  as  it  appears  in  this  brief  sketch.  Here,  faithfulness 
calls  us  to  search  out  acceptable  words,  that  we  may 
speak  the  truth  in  soberness.  Happily  for  us,  the  words 
of  our  text  most  forcibly  present,  in  epitorhe,  all  that  it 
is  needful  to  say.  Could  the  excellences  and  defects  of 
our  beloved  brother — mental  and  moral — personal  and 
relative — private  and  official — be  more  beautifully  blend- 
ed, or  more  happily  expressed,  than  they  are  here,  in  the 
elegant  rhetoric  and  language  of  the  Holy  Spirit?  "  A 
sheaf,  gathered  in,  in  its  season  !"  Not  a  mere  ear  of  wheat 
— not  a  mere  handful — a  mere  cluster  of  grain — but  a 
bosom  full — "a  sheaf."  Moreover,  it  is  set  forth  by  im- 
plication, as  a  sheaf,  the  seed  of  which  was  sown  in  good 
ground,  and  gave  forth,  first  the  tender  blade,  and  then 
the  bursting  ear,  and  then  the  full  corn  in  the  ear.  It 
was  watered  by  tears,  and  fostered  by  prayers  ;  the  dews 
of  heaven  refreshed  it,  and  the  sun  of  righteousness 
matured  it;  until  the  husbandman's  voice  said,  "put  in 
the  sickle  ;"  and  then  "it  was  gathered  in,  in  its  season^ 
Stony  ground  did  not  stunt  its  growth,  thorns  and 
thistles  did  not  choke  it,  it  was  not  mildewed  by  the 
glow  of  prosperity,  it  was  not  blasted  by  the  storms  of 
adversity,  but  it  was  anxiously  cultured  to  the  yellow 


24 

lustre  of  ripeness,  to   be  cut   down,  and   bound   up   in 
golden  bands  of  grace,  and  "  gathered  in,  in  its  season." 

"Ah!"  I  hear  some  one  ask,  "and  was  it  unmixed, 
then,  with  tares,  or  cockle,  or  darnel,  or  chaff?"  Bear 
in  mind,  my  dear  friend,  that  as  men  understand  hus- 
bandry, a  sheaf  would  not  be  perfect  without  its  chaff. 
And  it  w^as  so  here.  In  making  up  the  whole  man,  we 
find  some  light  refuse.  But  as  to  tares  and  noxious 
weeds,  I  am  sure  there  are  none.  What,  then,  of  that 
which  we  do  find?  In  the  language  of  Dr.  Cone's  text, 
in  his  last  sermon  to  the  young,  we  demand,  "  what  is 
the  chaff  to  the  wheat?"  No  man  realized  his  real 
defects  and  faults  more  than  himself,  and  no  man  ever 
prayed  more  earnestly,  that  "  the  wind  might  carry  them 
away  like  the  chaff  of  the  summer  threshing  floors." 

A  few  wrecks  ago,  in  a  conversation  with  him,  a  change 
of  topic  brought  up  the  peculiarities  of  John  Leland.  I 
called  his  attention  to  the  following  striking  passage,  in 
the  published  works  of  Leland,  at  the  close  of  his  narra- 
tive: "  Looking  over  the  foregoing  narrative,  there  is 
proof  enough  of  imperfection,  and  yet  what  I  have 
wTitten  is  the  best  part  of  my  life.  A  history  seven 
times  as  large,  might  be  written  of  my  errors  in  judgment, 
incorrectness  of  behavior,  and  baseness  of  heart.  And 
when  I  come  to  Christ  for  pardon,  I  come  as  an  old  gray- 
headed  sinner,  in  the  language  of  the  publican,  "  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  "Ah!  upon  my  word,,  said 
Dr.  Cone,    "  what  a  perfect  picture  tliat   is   of  us  all. 


25 

What  poor  miserable  sinners  we  are  ?"  After  this  frank 
confession  to  the  correctness  of  his  own  picture,  drawn 
by  Leland,  you  will  allow  me  to  leave  the  further  discus- 
sion of  his  faults,  to  those,  who,  during  his  life,  delighted  to 
magnify  and  multiply  them  above  their  own  ;  or  as  Isaiah 
has  it,  to  "thresh  the  mountains  and  beat  them  small, 
and  make  the  hills  as  chaff,"  under  the  operations  of 
"  a  sharp  threshing  instrument,  having  teeth." 

Dr.  Cone  possessed  a  distinguishing  superiority 
OF  MIND.  Not  that  ponderous  massiveness  of  thought 
and  reason,  which,  of  itself,  sets  the  seal  of  greatness 
upon  him  who  possesses  it.  This  gift  is  bestowed  but 
once  in  an  age.  The  superiority  of  his  mind,  did  not 
consist  so  much  in  the  stature  or  strength  of  any  one 
distinctive  quality,  as  in  that  happy  fullness  and  blending 
of  aZZ  the  mental  attributes,  thus  harmonizing  the  intel- 
lect with  itself,  and  rendering  it  beautifully  symmetrical. 
Just  as  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  blend  to  form  an  har- 
monious arch,  so  every  mental  faculty  blended  in  him  ; 
no  individual  member  of  the  mind  predominating  over 
the  others,  in  a  degree  to  render  his  powers  misshapen 
and  ill-balanced.  Each  department  of  his  mind  was 
active  and  healthy  ;  and  all  conspired  to  raise  their  posses- 
sor to  a  superiority  which  few  men  reach. 

His  perception  ;  was  clear,  vigorous,  and  penetrating, 
so  that  he  stood  in  no  need  of  an  inventive  originality. 
It  took  hold  of  strong  practical  sense,  with  a  firm  pur- 
pose.    Dr.  Cone  took  nothing  for  granted.     But  every 


26 

fact  and  theory,  claiming  his  faith  and  confidence,  must 
be  thoroughly  sifted.  He  scorned  to  hold  that  as  true, 
which  he  had  not  closely  investigated.  This  strong  per- 
ception, coupled  with  his  solicitude  to  get  at  the  truth, 
endowed  him  with  an  ability  to  detect  a  plausible  sophis- 
try, amounting  almost  to  intuition.  It  also  gave  direct- 
ness and  fluency  to  his  forms  of  expression,  and  a  lucid 
emphasis  to  his  reasonings,  and  facts,  which  made  them 
felt  upon  the  popular  mind,  however  great  the  odds 
against  him. 

His  imagination  ;  was  quick,  chaste,  and  graphic.  He 
had  cultivated  this  faculty  to  a  considerable  extent  by 
the  study  of  poetry,  especially  the  works  of  the  old 
English  poets.  With  Milton,  and  Shakspeare,  he  was  very 
familiar,  and  could  call  up  almost  any  passage  from  these 
great  philosophers  and  painters  of  human  nature,  at 
pleasure.  His  preaching  was  full  of  imagery  at  times, 
and  his  chaste  figurative  language,  often  adorned,  but 
oftener  illustrated,  what  could  not  have  been  conveyed  to 
dull  minds  by  rules  and  maxims.  He  used  this  graphic 
style  most  freely,  perhaps,  in  his  early  ministr}^  His 
deep  sympathy  with  the  spirit  of  poetry,  is  clearly  seen 
in  his  ready  appreciation  of  poetic  sentiment,  and  the 
force  with  which  he  accompanied  its  announcement. 
No  one  w^ho  has  heard  Dr.  Cone  read  a  hymn,  can  have 
failed  to  notice  and  feel  by  every  modulation  of  his 
voice,  every  expression  of  his  face,  and  every  gesture  of 
his  body,  that  the  spirit  and  force  of  the  composition, 


27 

first  made  its  legitimate  impression  upon  his  own  heart, 
and  then  upon  the  heart  of  the  hearer,  as  sentence  after 
sentence  fell  from  his  lips.  Hence,  it  was  no  uncommon 
thing  to  see  a  large  congregation  melted  into  tears, 
or  giving  forth  some  other  expressions  of  emotion,  while 
he  was  reading  an  old  familiar  hymn,  which  had  never 
awakened  the  slightest  sensation  in  their  souls  before. 

His  memory  ;  was  exact,  and  of  vast  compass,  great 
richness, and  ready  communication.  His  faithfulness  of 
memory,  and  clearness  of  understanding,  gave  him  that 
collectedness  and  self-possession  which  rarely  forsook 
him  as  an  extempore  speaker,  and  never  as  a  presiding 
officer,  no  matter  how  complex  the  deliberations,  or  tur- 
bulent the  assembly.  It  also  supplied  his  fund  of 
anecdote  and  personal  reminiscence,  which  was  inexhaTist- 
ible.  No  one  could  start  a  subject  connected  with  the 
history  of  our  country,  but  more  especially  with  the 
history  of  our  denomination,  but  he  would  immediately 
relate  some  fact  which  would  illuminate  the  whole 
subject,  and  the  relation  generally  glowed  with  some 
delicate  touch  of  humor  or  pathos.  In  his  day,  he  navi- 
gated, with  other  ecclesiastical  voyagers,  among  rocks, 
and  shoals,  and  dangerous  whirlpools,  and  several  times 
when  our  good  Baptist  ship  seemed  ready  to  founder,  his 
knowledge  of  the  old  currents  and  channels,  had  much 
to  do  with  the  direction  of  her  helm,  and  her  safe  moor- 
ing in  the  desired  haven. 

His  will  ;  was   bold,  stern,  and  indomitable.     This 


2S 

noble  faculty  witli  which  God  has  endowed  man, 
w^as  one  of  the  noblest  of  his  soul.  Without  this 
faculty,  and  nearly  in  this  form,  no  man  can  be  great. 
It  is  not  meant  by  this,  that  he  was  self-willed.  The 
truth  lies  so  far  from  this,  that  few  men,  whose  talents, 
experience,  and  wisdom,  entitle  their  opinions  and  plans 
to  weighty  consideration,  are  more  willing  to  waive  their 
peculiar  predilections,  where  principle  is  not  involved, 
than  he  was,  when  another  could  show  unto  him  a 
more  excellent  way.  But  it  is  meant,  rather,  that  his 
mental  integrity  required  him  to  probe  error  to  the 
quick,  and  give  a  verdict  upon  the  results,  and  then,  by 
the  gravity  of  conviction,  to  stand  upon  that  verdict  as 
firm  as  the  base  of  a  mountain.  His  will  linked  itself 
with  his  conscience,  in  these  investigations,  and  made 
him  valiant  for  the  truth ;  and  his  stern  adherence  to  the 
truth,  either  magnetized  men  with  a  conviction  of  his 
integrity,  or  provoked  them  to  charge  him  with  arrogance 
or  obstinacy.  He  knew  nothing  of  fear,  mentally, 
physically,  or  morally;  and  yet  when  truth  was  periled, 
his  common  sense  made  him  a  most  acute  and  cautious 
observer  of  the  signs  of  the  times.  And  when  the  signs 
of  the  times  indicated  the  approach  of  violent  opposition, 
they  also  indicated  to  him  the  greater  necessity  of  with- 
standing it  the  more  indomitably,  and  in  nine  cases  out 
of  every  ten,  when  the  inveterate  struggle  was  ended,  the 
right  was  triumphant. 

But  the  sensibilities,  and  the  religious  faculties  are 


29 

nobler  than  the  merely  intellectual.    Did  he  excel  here  ? 
He  had  a  beautiful  mind,  but  he  had  also  a  noble  heart. 

His  affections  ;  were  of  a  high,  pure,  and  generous 
order.  As  might  be  naturally  expected,  it  was  not  so 
easy  to  obtain  his  unbounded  confidence,  or  even  his 
intimate  friendship,  as  it  would  be  with  men  of  less  dis- 
crimination. But  when  either  was  once  secured,  no 
design  or  misrepresentation  could  disturb  it.  Yet  if  it 
was  once  wantonly  sacrificed,  it  was  restored  with  much 
greater  caution  than  that  which  first  bestowed  it.  Hence, 
his  friendships  were  invaluable.  His  heart  was  suscepti- 
ble of  the  deepest  tenderness,  and  the  profoundest 
emotion.  When  sorrow  took  aim,  and  sent  an  arrow 
from  her  quiver,  there  was  no  shield  between  her  bow 
and  his  heart.  When  the  benighted  sought  a  guide,  they 
knew  where  to  find  a  lamp  trimmed  and  burning,  and  at 
their  service.  When  the  young  and  friendless  candidate 
for  the  "ministry  of  reconciliation"  needed  a  counselor, 
or  a  benefactor,  he  knew  that  this  veteran  heart  would 
yearn  over  him  in  love  and  pity.  And,  I  will  not  say  that 
there  are  scores,  but  hundreds  of  brethren,  in  our  ministry, 
and  some  of  them  highly  distinguished  for  greatness  and 
success,  who  will  long  cherish  the  recollections  of  his 
kindness,  hospitality,  and  benevolence  toward  them, 
when  struggling  for  an  education.  You  could  not  but 
love  him,  for  kindness  of  heart  was  radiant  in  his  face. 
Still  the  eagerness  of  your  love  was  sometimes  checked, 
to  take  the  form  of  veneration,  when  benevolence  spoke 


30 

in  every  motion  of  his  person.      Love  never  disqualified 

him  for  discriminating  nicely  between  right  and  wrong, 

in  his  best  friends,  and  woe  betide  the  evil  doer,  whether 

friend  or  foe,  w^hen  his  vehemence  assumed  the  attire  of 

rebuke  ;  which  was  the  more  painful  because  of  his  vener- 
able presence. 

The  great  tenderness  of  his  heart,  and  the  depth  of  his 
sensibilities,  are  remarkably  illustrated  in  his  love  to  his 
mother,  and  brother,  and  sisters.  He  spent  fourteen 
years  of  his  life,  when  a  youth  and  a  young  man,  in  toiling 
for  their  support  or  education.  This  is  a  remarkable 
fact,  and  worthy  of  the  serious  thought  of  every  young 
man  present.  His  love  for  his  mother  was  of  the  deep- 
est, purest,  and  most  lasting  nature.  He  says,  "  I  loved 
her  with  unfeigned  love."  And  my  young  friends,  be 
assured,  if  there  is  one  sight  on  earth  more  beautiful  than 
another,  it  is  to  see  a  man  in  the  vigor  of  his  days  de- 
voted to  his  mother. 

His  love  of  Patriotism  ;  was  another  striking  feature 
in  his  character.  At  the  time  he  took  the  editorial  chair 
of  the  ^'■Baltimore  Whig,''''  political  excitement  ran  high, 
and  the  passing  contest  was  severe.  The  administration 
of  Madison  w^as  resisted  at  every  step,  by  some  of  the 
most  powerful  minds  of  the  age.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
was  sustained  by  many  of  immortal  renown.  Among 
w^hom,  we  find  William  Pinckney,  who  is  pronounced  by 
Col.  Benton,  the  most  eloquent  man  he  ever  listened  to 
in  the  American  Congress.     Mr.  Cone  was  in  daily  inter- 


31 

course  with  Mr.  Pinckney,  at  that  time,  not  oiily  because 
the  latter  was  a  constant  contributor  to  the  columns  of 
his  paper,  but  also  because  they  were  compatriots  in 
arms  for  the  defense  of  their  country.  Mr.  Cone  was  the 
son  of  a  Revolutionary  soldier,  and  said,  "I  claim,  there- 
fore, to  be  an  American,  not  only  by  birth,  but  in  every 
feeling  of  my  heart."  And  his  daily  intercourse  with 
patriots  of  this  genuine  stamp,  kept  his  patriotism  in  a 
constant  blaze.  After  his  conversion,  while  his  bosom 
was  dilating  with  first  love  to  Christ,  he  saw  that  the 
liberties  of  his  country  had  claims  upon  him,  to  the  ex- 
tent of  his  life,  if  need  be,  either  as  a  private  soldier,  or 
as  "a  captain  of  fifty."  The  roar  of  continental  cannon 
had  scarcely  died  away  when  he  was  first  rocked  in  his 
cradle.  The  victorious  shouts  of  American  patriots  first 
quickened  his  blood  on  its  way  to  his  heart,  in  his  child- 
hood. He  felt,  therefore,  that  he  would  be  unworthy  of  his 
free  home  to  shrink  in  a  day  of  duty.  The  times  were 
peculiarly  trying.  A  new  and  great  nation  had  sprung 
into  being  simultaneously  with  his  own  natural  life.  It  was 
to  be  governed  on  untried  principles.  Stern  necessities 
and  forbidding  contingencies  were  to  be  met.  The  new 
order  of  things  was  to  test  Constitutional  provisions  and 
Executive  prerogatives.  In  a  word,  the  freedom  achieved, 
at  so  dear  a  price,  was  to  be  surrendered  at  once,  or 
shielded  instanter,  against  anarchy  within  and  invasion 
without.  Mr.  Cone  was  not  the  man  to  be  indifferent 
under  such  circumstances.       Withal,  his  religion  had 


32 

strengthened  and  sanctified  his  love  for  his  country,  and 
had  entwined  a  new  and  mystic  cordage  around  his  heart, 
which  bound  him  closer  and  closer  to  its  weal  or  woe. 
With  these  feelings,  he  writes,  "The  war  was  raging, 
Baltimore  was  a  beleaguered  city.  I  did  not,  therefore, 
feel  at  liberty  to  resign  my  commission  as  a  soldier,  but 
did  my  duty  faithfully ;  and  my  own  company  of  artillery 
not  being  drafted  to  go  to  Washington,  I  accepted  from 
Major  Pinckney  a  Brevet  commission  of  lieutenant  in  a 
company  of  sharp-shooters,  and  was  in  the  battles  of 
Bladensburg  and  Long-log-lane,  near  Baltimore.  I 
thought  myself  to  be  in  the  path  of  duty  then,  and  am 
of  the  same  opinion  still."  To  my  mind,  this  part  of 
Mr.  Cone's  history  throws  considerable  light  upon  cer- 
tain characteristic  views  and  practices  in  after  life.  But 
particularly,  wath  reference  to  the  independency  and 
government  of  Baptist  churches,  which  he  regarded  as 
the  perfect  embodiment  and  development  of  the  demo- 
cratic principle.  After  all,  every  other  excellency  in  the 
character  of  Spencer  H.  Cone  was  eclipsed  by 

His    moral    integrity  ; — his    indissoluble    love  of 

the  truth. 

This  stands  out  with  great  prominence  in  his  life, 
as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  as  the  modern  apostle 
of  pure  versions  of  the  word  of  God  for  all  men.  To 
stand  here  and  simply  say,  that  his  noble  and  manly 
ministry  was  distinguished  and  successful,  would  hardly 


33 

be  an  act  of  love  ;  while  it  certainly  would  be  an  assump- 
tion of  great  familiarity.  I  must  conscientiously  speak 
from  this  pulpit  what  I  think.  I  cannot,  therefore,  pass  in 
silence  that  part  of  his  character  which  uttered  forth, 
with  a  thousand  voices,  the  spiritual  consciousness  of 
his  soul  enthroned  in  the  secret  chambers  of  his  being. 

All  his  powers  were  consecrated  to  the  w^ork  of  the 
ministry,  and  its  cognate  pursuits.  Had  he  continued 
in  political  life,  he  would,  without  doubt,  have  reached 
high  honors  and  offices  of  trust;  indeed,  his  executive 
talents  would  have  claimed  for  him  a  high  position  in 
any  sphere  of  action.  All  this  he  cheerfully  surrendered, 
prospectively,  exclaiming,  "  To  preach  Christ  and  him 
crucified  is  the  business  of  my  life  and  the  joy  of  my 
heart."  Having  once  laid  his  soul  a  sacrifice  upon  the 
altar,  he  had  no  choice  left  but  to  be  bold  and  uncom- 
promising in  proclaiming  the  whole  range  of  "  the  glo- 
rious Gospel."  From  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  he 
made  himself  perfectly  master  of  the  writings  of  Thomas 
Scott,  Mathew  Henry,  Abraham  Booth,  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards, John  Gill,  John  Owen,  and  John  Calvin.  More 
than  all  else,  he  read  and  studied  the  word  of  God ;  its 
prayerful  perusal  being  a  part  of  his  daily  meat  and 
drink,  to  the  end  of  his  life.  He  was  well  skilled  in 
polemical  and  practical  divinity,  but  as  he  acknowledged 
no  ground  of  faith  but  the  dictates  of  Divine  authority, 
the  first  question  with  him  was,  "What  saith  tlie  Scrip- 
tures?"    A  single  eye  and  an  honest  heart,  enwrapped 


34 

Mm  ill  a  suit  of  plated  mail,  impervious  to  every  weapon 
but  "  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  word  of 
God." 

On  this  principle  he  was  a  Calvinist ;  a  Calviuist  of 
the  old  school,  and  felt  no  apology  necessary  for  being 
so.  In  preaching  the  distinctive  doctrines  of  that  school, 
he  suffered  no  Antinomian  sin  to  rest  easy  on  any  man ; 
but  enforced  all  the  duties  of  the  Christian  life,  by 
weighty  motives  and  considerations.  By  his  commission 
from  Christ,  he  aimed  to  awaken  the  secure — to  quicken 
the  slothful — to  strengthen  the  weak — and  to  warn  the 
rebellious  to  "flee  from  the  wrath  to  come."  He  in- 
sisted that  "the  law  is  holy,  just,  and  good.  But  that 
by  the  deeds  of  the  law  shall  no  flesh  living  be  justified." 
"For  by  grace  are  ye  saved  through  faith ;  and  that  not 
of  yourselves :  it  is  the  gift  of  God :  not  of  works,  lest 
any  man  should  boast.  For  we  are  his  workmanship, 
created  in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works,  which  God 
hath  before  ordained  that  we  should  walk  in  them." 
He  insisted  that  so  far  from  the  doctrines  of  grace  lead- 
ing to  licentiousness,  they  are  the  most  powerful  pre- 
ventives against  it,  by  teaching  the  ransomed  rebel  his 
nothingness,  and  securing  all  the  glory  of  his  salvation 
to  Christ.  Nor  did  he  think  it  necessary,  in  preaching 
these  and  their  correlative  truths,  to  apologize  for  the 
mysteries  of  the  Gospel,  in  a  fruitless  attempt  to  level 
them  to  the  claims  of  reason.  Herein  he  "showed  him- 
self a  workman  that  needed  not  to  be  ashamed,  rightly 


35 

dividing  the  word  of  truth."  Eeason  revolts  at  the  doctrine 
of  the  moral  agency  of  man,  being  coupled  as  it  is  with 
that  of  the  sovereignty  of  Jehovah,  in  his  salvation.  But 
what  then  ?  Are  we  at  liberty  to  reject  either  of  these 
doctrines  of  the  Bible  for  this  cause.  I  think  not.  If 
we  are,  let;  us  be  consistent  and  abandon  faith  in  every 
mystery  of  Christianity  at  once.  Nay,  let  us  go  fur- 
ther, and  abandon  all  faith  in  nature,  for  the  same  reason. 
What  fundamental  principle  is  there  in  nature  that  is 
less  mysterious  than  these  two  fundamental  principles 
in  revelation?  Both  in  nature  and  revelation,  there  is 
much  that  is  above  reason,  and  beyond  its  reach,  which 
may  not  after  all  be  against  it.  But  shall  I  refuse  to 
bow  meekly  before  the  teachings  of  either,  for  this  cause? 
I  cannot  explain  the  minutest  mystery  of  my  own  being. 
My  heart  beats.  I  cannot  tell  how.  My  brain  deducts. 
I  cannot  show  why.  My  will  acts  upon  my  muscles,  and 
bones,  and  controls  all  my  physical  motions.  But  it  is 
all  a  mystery.  I  may  analyze,  and  ransack  and  torture 
nature.  But  she  turns  key  after  key  against  me,  and 
locks  up  all  her  secrets  in  her  own  laboratory,  and  will 
not  divulge  the  first  syllable  of  her  mysteries.  Then 
must  I  refuse  faith  to  my  beating  heart — my  thinking 
brain — my  acting  will — because  reason  cannot  compre- 
hend their  mysterious  operations  ?  On  the  other  hand, 
who  can  satisfy  reason  that  there  are  three  persons  in 
one  Godhead- — that  in  the  one  Christ  there  are  two  per- 
fecb  and  separate  natures,  the  Divine  and  the  human,  as 


36 

he  sits  to-day  upon  the  throne  of  mediation — that  spot 
less  holiness  could  claim,  and  infinite  love  could  give,  the 
pure  and  innocent  in  sacrifice,  for  the  redemption  of  the 
guilty?  These  are  all  doctrines  of  revelation,  and  as 
Christians,  we  say,  that  their  profound  mystery  and  lofty 
conception  stamps  them  with  Divinity,  and,  therefore, 
that  we  must  press  them  to  the  heart  as  the  precious 
inheritance,  not  of  reason  but  of  faith,  and  unconstrained 
we  acknowledge,  "Thy  icays,  O  Lord,  are  past  finding 
out!"  Then  does  it  demand  a  greater  stretch  of  faith 
to  yield  assent  to  the  mysterious  purposes  of  God,  than 
is  required  to  adore  his  mysterious  nature  ?  My  breth- 
ren, w^ien  we  once  learn  to  prostrate  ourselves  as  low 
before  the  shrine  of  vocal  revelation,  as  we  do  before  the 
dumb  oracle  of  nature,  when  we  once  learn  to  yield  sub- 
mission to  revelation  in  all  its  utterances,  as  well  as  a 
part,  our  faith  will  add  this  truth  to  its  triumphant 
acknowledgment,  "  Thy  judgments,  0  Lord,  are  a  great 
deep!" 

With  what  simplicity  of  diction  and  pathos  of  spirit 
did  this  departed  "  legate  of  the  skies"  set  forth  these 
sublime  truths,  with  all  the  co-equal  messages  of  the 
Bible.  As  he  stood  in  the  pulpit,  his  splendid  head  and 
noble  heart  enlisted  all  their  powers  to  discharge  his 
mission.  His  attitudes ;  simple  and  free  from  art,  were 
easy  as  the  curvings  of  an  eagle  when  he  sinks  or  soars. 
His  person ;  was  graceful,  meek,  and  dignified.  His  fea- 
tures; fair  and  flexible,  gave  tone  to  every  form  of  expres- 


37 

sioii,  and  his  blae  eye,  suftused  with  tears,  or  bathed  in 
light  and  love,  told  all  that  was  transpiring  in  his  heart. 
His  voice;  rich,  powerful,  and  melodious,  was  vehement 
as  the  maddened  storm — soft  as  the  ascending  strain  from 
the  lute — defiant  as  the  bristling  lion — mournful  as  the 
wooing  dove — or  startling  as  the  martial  trumpet.  It 
waited  to  be  used  at  pleasure  and  command  a  hearing 
for  him,  who  with  his  Master,  "spoke  as  one  having 
authority  and  not  as  the  Scribes." 

Not  only  was  he  an  eloquent  man,  but  it  must  have 
been  apparent  to  all  who  heard  him  unfold  the  mysteries 
of  the  Gospel  that  he  was  a  man  of  strong  faith  himself. 
The  personal  piety  of  Dr.  Cone  cannot  be  questioned  by 
those  who  either  observed  his  private  life,  or  sat  under 
his  ministry.  Reverence  for  the  holy  name  and  word 
of  God,  characterized  his  life  and  ministrations.  In 
the  pulpit,  his  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  and  prayer  at 
the  mercy-seat,  both  showed  the  elevation  of  his  faith 
and  the  profoundness  of  his  humility.  His  faith  ap- 
proached the  Holy  One  of  Israel  in  all  the  lowliness  of 
self-abasement,  and  in  all  the  sublimity  of  lofty  adora- 
tion. His  faith  in  the  infinite  majesty  of  God,  filled  him 
with  awe,  and  yet  it  was  bold  to  seek  a  blessing  in  his 
boundless  love  and  condescending  grace.  All  poverty 
in  himself;  his  faith  confessed  the  amplitude  of  the  foun- 
tain to  which  he  came.  All  sin  in  himself;  his  faith 
uttered  its  filial  confidence  in  the  unchanged  fiiithfulness 

of  the  Father,  and  tenderly  plead  the  atoning  sacrifice  of 
4 


38 

the  Son,  while  the  Spirit  gave  the  fullest  and  sweetest  assu- 
rance that  his  prayers  came  up  acceptably  unto  the  ears 
of  the  Lord  God  of  Sabbaoth.  Sometimes  I  have  heard  him 
pray,  when,  for  a  few  moments,  it  would  have  been  no 
difficult  thing  to  imagine  him  rather  inspired  with  the 
transports  of  the  glorified  worshippers,  than  pleading 
among  a  multitude  of  hell-deserving  sinners,  of  whom  he 
was  confessing,  "I  am  chief."  This  strong  ftiith  accom- 
panied him  into  all  the  duties  of  life,  so  that  the  eulogy 
pronounced  by  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  Barnabas,  may 
appropriately  be  applied  to  him — "  He  was  a  good  man, 
and  full  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  of  faith ;  and  much 
people  was  added  unto  the  Lord." 

And  when  he  left  the  pulpit,  he  felt  unconcerned  to 
know  whether  his  theme  suited  the  palate  of  his  hearers 
or  not.  Ill  his  preparations  for  the  pulpit,  he  consulted 
the  greatest  profit  of  his  people  ;  while  in  the  pulpit,  he 
looked  for  "an  unction  from  the  Holv  One  ;"  but  when 
he  left  the  pulpit,  he  was  content ;  if  he  felt  the  approval 
of  God,  as  "a  good  minister  of  Jesus  Christ."  When 
Chaplain  to  Congress,  he  was  sorely  tried  on  this  point. 
He  says,  "My  Gospel  was  openly  attacked  by  members 
of  Congress,  and  Mr.  Clay,  the  Speaker  of  the  House, 
was  requested  to  prevent  my  preaching  again,  in  the 
Halls  of  Congress,  because  I  mentioned  from  the  Speaker's 
chair,  the  last  words  of  one  of  the  members,  w^ho  had 
died  two  or  three  weeks  before,  and  took  occasion  then, 
to  p-ovefrom  the  Bible,  that  "  except  a  man  be  born  again. 


39 

he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God."  But  the  Lord 
helped  me  mightily;  and  silence,  order,  and  solemnity, 
characterized  assemblies  composed  of  persons  of  no  creed 
and  of  all  creeds."  It  is  proper  to  say  here,  that  Mr. 
Clay  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  with  great  warmth, 
assured  him  that  he  should  not  be  disturbed  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duty;  and  that,  for  his  own  part,  he 
respected  him  the  more  for  faithfully  preaching  the 
doctrines  which  he  honestly  believed  were  taught  in  the 
Bible. 

HIS  LOVE  FOR  A  PURE  BIBLE. 

But  the  pulpit  was  not  the  only  place  where  he 
exhibited  his  unconquerable  love  of  the  truth,  and  his 
undaunted  advocacy  of  it.  He  was  the  modern  apostle 
of  the  great  principle  which  entitles  all  men  to  pure 
versions  of  the  w^ord  of  God.  Here,  the  platform  and 
the  press,  were  witnesses  of  his  lofty  integrity.  Here, 
his  fame  will  rest,  with  coming  generations,  as  it  does 
already  with  this.  For  even  now,  there  are  thousands, 
if  not  millions,  both  in  Europe  and  America,  who  never 
saw  his  face — know  nothing  of  his  abilities  and  excel- 
lences in  other  respects — and  could  scarcely  define  his 
ecclesiastical  connections,  if  required  to  do  so  on  oath — 
who,  nevertheless,  are  familiar  with  his  name  as  an 
apostle  in  the  service  of  pure  versions  of  the  Bible. 

True,  this  great  principle  is  not  new ;  for  the  reason 


40 

that  no  principle  is  new.  Bvt  the  universal  application  of 
theprinciple  is  nciv.  The  principle  on  which  the  doctrine 
of  Justification  by  Faith  is  based,  was  not  new  in  the 
days  of  Luther.  But  the  doctrine  itself,  as  the  applica- 
tion of  that  principle,  was  almost  universally  scouted, 
until  Luther  nailed  his  celebrated  Theses  to  the  church 
door  at  Wittemberg.  The  doctrine  was  buried  by  the 
Church  of  Rome,  in  the  musty  volumes  of  the  fathers, 
and  the  cloistered  word  of  God.  But  the  strokes  of  the 
hammer,  and  the  driving  of  the  nails,  startled  the  monk- 
ish priesthood.  The  entombed  doctrine  heard  the  blows 
also — was  reminded  of  the  five  nails  and  the  spear 
which  hung  around  its  birthplace, — and  forthwith  the 
monasteries  rocked  in  the  throes  of  a  resurrection.  The 
masses  of  workmongers  ran  to  the  church  door — 
read  the  handwriting  against  them,  and  were  alarmed, 
— and  from  that  time.  Justification  by  Faith  in  the 
imputed  righteousness  of  Jesus,  was  revived  in  the 
pulpit  and  the  lives  of  the  people.  Luther's  fame 
hangs  on  that  fact.  So  of  the  application  of  this 
principle  by  the  Church  of  Christ,  to  the  Bible,  as 
teaching  the  religious  rights  and  duties  of  all  men. 
Who,  in  America,  was  awake  to  it,  when  Spencer  H. 
Cone  and  Prof.  Knowles  pressed  it  upon  the  attention 
of  the  Baptist  Churches,  at  the  Salem  Convention,  in 
1833?  This  was  several  years  before  a  distinct  Bible 
organization  was  founded  upon  this  principle.  The 
missionaries  in  Bengal  and  Burmali  were  applying  the 


41 

principle  by  preparing  immersionist  versions  for  a  small 
part  of  mankind,  but  who  was  moving  a  finger  for  its 
application  to  the  English  Scriptures,  for  the  benefit  of 
the  millions  at  home,  until  he  nailed  up  his  Thesis,  to 
be  "read  and  known  of  all  men?"  Said  he,  "to  bap- 
tize is  to  immerse.  If  it  be  right  to  preach  it,  it  is 
right  to  print  it ;  and  if  it  be  wrong  to  print  it,  it  is 
wrong  to  preach  it."  Love  to  a  principle  is  proved  by- 
love  for  its  application :  this  is  all  that  gives  it  its 
potency.  He  might  have  claimed  the  divinity  of  the 
principle  to  this  day  without  dispute,  if  he  had  rested 
the  issue  there.  But,  when  he  went  further  than  this, 
it  inevitably  led  to  the  formation  of  the  American  and 
Foreign  Bible  Society.  I  have  said  that  he  was  the 
modern  apostle  -of  this  great  principle.  And  if  what 
men  do,  is  to  be  preferred  to  what  they  say,  and  is  to  be  the 
criterion  of  their  love,  then  the  claim  is  well  founded. 
This  distinction  is  cheerfully  awarded  to  him  by  those  who 
have  sympathized  most  deeply  with  him  ;  and  certainly 
those  who  have  never  raised  a  finger  to  cheer  him  in 
the  struggle,  and  those  vdio  have  sternly  opposed  him, 
have  no  reason  to  demur  at  the  award. 

In  the  formation  of  the  American  and  Foreign  Bible 
Society  he  took  a  prominent  part.  The  controversy 
which  gave  rise  to  it  was  a  severe  one,  and  most  of  the 
odium  fell  upon  its  President,  as,  in  fact,  the  author  of 
the  grave  movement ;  and  the  sinner  "  above  all  men 
that  dwelt  in  Jerusalem."     "  The  Bible  Translated" 


42 

was  his  platform,  and  he  stood  upon  it  as  lirm  as  the 
mountain  on  whose  bosom  he  now  rests,  in  his  native 
State. 

As  the  President  of  that  Society,  he  said,  "The  great 
principle  for  which  he  contended,  was, — That  all  men 

OUGHT     TO     HAVE     THE      WORD      OF      GoD      UNMUTILATED 

AND  undisguised;  and  the  American  and  Foreign  Bible 
Society  was  founded  upon  that  plain  and  simple  truth, 
and  not  upon  any  "Sectarian"  basis;  hence,  when  the 
Society  was  organized,  we  took  for  our  watchword  and 
our  motto — The  Bible  Translated.  Upon  the  recti- 
tude of  this  principle  we  rest  the  merits  of  our  cause. 
To  insinuate  that  we  have  attempted  "to  render  the 
word  of  God  subservient  to  mere  denominational  pur- 
poses," is  unkind  and  unjust.  We  are  entirely  satisfied 
with  "  the  word  of  God,"  and,  as  a  denomination,  all 
we  ask  is  that  no  part  of  it  should  be  covered  up  from 
the  people  in  an  unknown  tongue ; — let  it  be  translated 
with  fidelity^  that  men  may  everywhere  hear  and  read 
what  God  would  have  them  to  do ;  let  it  be  translated 
so  plainly ,  that  even  the  "wayfaring  men,  though  fools, 
may  not  err  therein."  Does  Baptizo,  for  examj^le, 
mean  to  jiour,  or  spinMe,  or  icasli,  or  christen,  or  sign 
vnih  the  sign  of  the  cross?  Let  it  be  so  translated,  that 
men  may  know  that  God  requires  them  to  be  spinhled  or 
Ijoured;  and  let  all  who  please,  sustain  by  their  prayers, 
and  alms,  and  influence,  these  sprinkling  or  pouring 
versions." 


43 

These  views  he  reiterated  again  and  again  in  his 
annual  addresses  as  President  of  the  Society.  And  few 
addresses,  delivered  by  other  persons,  are  found  in  the 
Reports,  that  do  not  warmly  repeat  the  same  sentiments, 
and  none  of  them  more  warmly  than  the  Annual  Re- 
ports themselves.  Dr.  Cone  also  opened  an  extensive 
correspondence  with  Drs.  Cox,  and  Hoby,  of  Great 
Britain,  Dr.  Judson,  of  the  Burman  Mission,  and  Wil- 
liam Yates,  of  Calcutta,  and  many  other  persons  in 
Europe,  America,  and  Asia,  with  reference  to  the  best 
method  to  be  pursued  in  applying  this  principle  to  the 
English  Bible.  So  far  had  this  design  gone,  that  at 
one  period.  Dr.  Cox  had  stipulated  on  what  terms  he 
would  proceed  to  do  the  work,  in  conjunction  with 
other  European  scholars;  so  unmistakably  were  the 
principles  of  the  Society  understood  by  the  President 
and  thousands  of  its  friends  and  founders.  Nay,  the 
Board  had  actually  authorized  changes  in  certain  parts 
of  the  New  Testament,  where  known  and  obvious  errors 
existed;  and  yet,  in  1850,  he  found  it  necessary  with 
his  brethren,  to  pass  through  new  battles,  in  this 
very  Society,  for  a  pure  Bible.  He  had  cherished  the 
American  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  as  his  life.  But, 
in  1S50,  when  that  Society  stretched  forth  its  hands 
to  seize  the  throat  of  Truth — that  Truth  which  had 
evoked  its  very  being — when  it  bound  and  led  her  forth 
a  struggling  victim,  and  offered  her,  a  wave  offering, 
upon  the  altar  of  expediency — he  stood  up  and  plead. 


44 

with  manly  eloquence  and  tears,  that  she  might  be 
spared,  saying,  "What  evil  hath  she  done?"  And, 
"when  he  saw  that"  intercession  prevailed  "nothing, 
but  that  rather  a  tumult  was  made,  he  washed  his 
hands,"  and  retired  from  the  wild  scene  of  slaughter, 
unwilling  to  sanction  the  crime  by  his  presence.  This 
act  drew  upon  him  an  amount  of  reproach  which  few 
men  have  breasted,  for  any  cause,  in  modern  times.  Yet, 
with  Abraham  of  old,  "he  staggered  not  through  unbe- 
lief, but  was  strong  in  ftiith,  giving  glory  to  God,  ac- 
counting that  God  was  able  to  raise  her  up  even  from 
the  dead,  from  whence  also  he  received  her" — in  a  figure? 
aye,  in  more  than  "a  figure."  In  the  organization 
of  the  American  Bible  Union  he  avowed  anew,  the 
principle  for  which  he  had  contended  in  the  American 
and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  and  went  forth  lils.e  another 
Gideon,  with  a  handful  of  men.  There  was  no  Saul, 
nor  Goliath  among  them,  and  it  is  said,  not  one  Gamaliel. 
For  the  most  part  they  were  "beardless"  "sons  of  the 
prophets,"  and  their  only  weapons  were  "pitchers  and 
lamps.''''  But  God  so  vindicated  the  good  man's  in- 
tegrity, that,  like  Jacob,  when  he  passed  over  Jordan, 
he  was  escorted  to  the  margin  "between  two  bands." 


45 


CONCLUSION. 


I  have  thus,  in  as  brief  a  manner  as  I  could  under  the 
circumstances,  given  you  a  portraiture  of  your  departed 
pastor.  Suffer  a  word  of  exhortation,  and  I  close.  To 
you,  my  dear  friends. 

The  devoted  sons  of  Dr.  Cone  ;  I  cheerfully  express 
the  profound  sympathy,  that  many,  many  hearts,  feel 
Vv^ith  you  and  for  you.  You  feel  your  loss  the  more 
sensibly,  because  the  opportunity  of  conversing  with 
your  father  and  mother  both,  in  their  dying  hours,  was  in 
in  the  providence  of  God,  denied  you.  This  is  hard  to 
bear,  and  in  less  illustrious  cases  would  be  extremely 
painful.  But  in  your  case,  the  keenness  of  the  denial  is 
alleviated  in  the  consideration,  that  both  your  parents 
had  always  demeaned  themselves  toward  you  with  a 
sincerity  of  love,  pure  as  a  beam  from  the  sun.  Love  to 
you  was  the  law  of  their  dwelling,  as  much  as  honor  and 
purity  were  the  law  of  their  lives.  And  if  they  could 
not  express  it  when  dying,  you  know  that  it  w^as  still 
consuming  in  their  breasts,  an  undying  flame.  Besides, 
see  the  precious  legacy  they  have  left  you  in  their 
untarnished  lives,  their  holy  walk  with  God,  and  their 
unanswered  prayers.  Had  they  addressed  you  from  their 
death-bed,  what  could  they  have  added  to  the  testimony 
of  their  lives?  God  denied  you  the  transient  and 
ephemeral  counsels  of  a  dying  hour,  to  throw  you  back 


46 

upon  the  tried  and  permanent  virtues  of  real  existence. 
All  that  your  venerated  father  could  have  done,  he  has 
done  often — namely,  to  lay  his  trembling  hands  upon 
your  heads,  and  pray,  "  The  God  who  hath  fed  me 
all  my  days,  the  Angel  which  redeemed  me  from  all 
evil;  bless  the  lads."  Kemember,  then,  that  God  is 
faithful.  Trust  in  him,  and  he  will  be  your  God.  Now 
that  your  father  and  mother  stand  before  the  throne  of 
God,  look  for  answers  to  their  prayers,  being  confident 
that  the  joint  prayers  of  your  glorified  father  and  mother 
will  never  go  unanswered  upon  their  children. 

Brethren  of  the  First  Baptist  Church.  Your 
pastor's  chair  is  vacant.  You  feel  your  loss,  and  yet  you 
cannot  at  present  measure  its  extent.  This  is  a  solemn 
and  critical  period  in  your  history.  You  have  been 
highly  honored  in  your  pastor.  But  your  res]_3onsibility 
will  be  proportioned  to  your  privilege.  His  wisdom  and 
prudence — his  fidelity  and  simplicity — his  courage  and 
patience — his  zeal  and  disinterestedness — greatly  increase 
your  responsibilities  for  the  manner  in  which  you  have 
improved  his  ministry.  Give  yourselves  to  humiliation 
and  to  prayer.  In  view  of  this  ministry,  whoever  may 
be  your  future  pastor,  will  enter  this  pulpit  wdth  great 
fear  and  trembling.  He  will  need  great  moral  courage, 
for  his  responsibilities  will  tax  all  his  powers.  But  I  am 
reminded  of  the  shortness  of  human  life,  and  that  some 
of  you  will  soon  meet  your  pastor  above.  In  the  com- 
fort of  this  truth,  silence  your  lamentations  and  hope  to 


47 

the  end.  Already  Le  has  joined  a  large  company  of  those 
whom  he  baptized  into  Christ,  who  died  in  the  Lord 
before  him,  and  soon  some  of  you  will  join  the  throng. 

What  shall  I  say  to  the  Congregation  ?  I  will 
only  ask  you,  dear  friends.,  to  proceed  at  once  to  self- 
examination.  See  what  account  you  can  give  of  liis 
ministry  when  you  stand  with  him  before  the  judgment 
seat  of  Christ.  He  was  a  tender-hearted  pastor  to  you. 
Often  a  sense  of  the  worth  of  your  souls  and  your  ruined 
condition  made  him  cry,  "  Oh !  that  my  head  were 
waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain  of  tears,  that  I  might 
weep  day  and  night  for  the  slain  of  the  daughter  of  my 
people."  He  wasted  his  strength  and  consumed  his  days 
to  promote  your  salvation.  And  are  not  all  his  warnings 
and  entreaties — his  instructions  and  exhortations — writ- 
ten in  a  book?  Whatever  others  may  say,  you  can 
never  say,  "No  man  cared  for  my  soul."  All  your 
broken  vows  and  reiterated  compunctions  of  conscience 
are  written  side  by  side  in  that  same  volume,  and  will  be 
swift  witness  that,  at  least,  one  humble,  earnest  servant 
of  God  cared  for  you.  0  how  affectionately  he  cared  for 
you,  the  young  members  of  this  congregation  !  Two-and- 
thirty  sermons,  annual  sermons,  to  the  young  of  New  York, 
are  registered  on  high.  How  many  of  them  did  yoic  hear? 
Your  pastor  had  a  peculiar  sympathy  with  the  young. 
When  his  body  was  old,  it  carried  about  with  it  a  soul  as 
young  and  blooming  as  yours.  And  he  felt  that  he  had 
a  peculiar   mission   to    you.     Shall    it  be,  that  by  the 


48 

blessing  of  God,  his  counsels  and  expostulations  will  be 
honored  in  your  conversion  to  Grod  to-day  ?  O  if  it 
should  be  whispered  to-night  in  heaven  among  the  angels 
of  Grod,  of  some  young  wanderer  in  this  house,  "  Behold, 
he  prayeth,"  and  that  here  he  is  to  become  a  true  fol- 
lower of  the  Lamb,  then,  "  He  that  went  forth  weeping 
bearing  precious  seed,  would  doubtless  come  again  with 
rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him." 

Brethren  and  Friends  of  the  Bible  Union.  Our 
first  President  is  dead.  But  his  greatness  and  goodness 
can  never  die  while  the  Bible  Union  lives  to  exhibit  the 
lines  he  has  left  deep  graven  upon  it.  He  has  sent  down 
the  great  idea  of  his  life  bound  to  the  destinies  of  this 
organization.  Take  care  of  the  burnished  gem.  There 
is  not  a  spot  upon  it  now  that  he  would  erase.  It  will 
lie  in  the  heart  of  millions,  when  granite  rocks  are  worn 
to  dust  by  the  friction  of  revolving  years.  The  thought 
of  his  heart  was  an  eloquent  thought.  He  that  has  an 
ear  for  true  eloquence,  may  bow  to  catch  the  slow  and 
holy  pulsations  of  his  soul,  echoing  back  his  perpetual 
eulogy  in  the  bosom  of  the  Bible  Union. 

And  will  not  the  God  of  the  Bible  overrule  his  removal 
to  the  honorable  memory  of  his  departed  servant,  and 
the  glory  of  his  own  word  ?  Did  you  never  notice  that 
the  thick  cloud  which  journeys  with  the  sun,  hiding  his 
brightness  for  a  time,  is  often  transformed  into  a  canopy 
mounted  with  Alps  of  gold,  under  which  the  descending 
monarch  of  the  firmament  may  set  in  glory  ?     It  is  so  to- 


49 

day  with  the  Bible  Union,  in  the  setting  of  its  chief 
founder.  The  honesty  of  his  motives,  and  the  disinter- 
estedness of  his  purposes,  may  have  been  obscured,  but 
dark  prejudices  against  him  and  the  Union  are  ah-eady 
dissolving,  and  wreathing  themselves  for  a  transforma- 
tion, to  add  new  brilliancy  to  the  enterprise  and  its 
departing  President.  Brethren,  we  owe  a  meed  of  praise 
to  God  that  our  principles  were  all  unfolded,  our  plans 
all  matured,  our  splendid  library  collected,  and  our  work 
partly  consummated  before  his  manly  vigor  failed.  An 
army  of  friends,  too  strong  to  be  resisted,  has  also  been 
raised  up  to  breathe  his  spirit  and  emulate  his  example  ; 
and  his  memory  shall  ever  incite  us  to  new  constancy, 
and  stir  us  up  to  bolder  combat  for  the  truth.  We  are 
comforted  with  the  thought,  that  a  few  of  the  fathers  are 
yet  left  to  counsel  and  encourage  us.  Maclay,  and  Col- 
gate, and  Dagg,  and  Winter,  and  Powell,  are  with  us 
still.  Our  ensign  was  never  stained  nor  trampled  in  the 
dust  while  held  in  the  hand  of  Spencer  H.  Cone,  and  the 
unswerving  integrity  of  a  long  life,  is  the  pledge  that  we 
need  not  fear  for  it  in  the  hands  of  Archibald  Maclay,  if 
it  shall  be  confided  to  him. 

We  now  yield  up  the  memory  of  our  beloved  brother 
to  the  behests  of  the  Most  High  God.  AVith  him,  the 
struggle,  and  strife,  and  pain,  and  sin  of  earth  are  over. 
The  seal  of  death  is  upon  him.  His  life  is  a  tale  that  is 
told.    The  martyrs  and  missionaries,  the  saints  and  angels 


50 

of  God,  have  already  crowded  "the  gates  of  pearl"  to 
hail  him  welcome  home !  Before  now,  he  has  heard  the 
strains  from  Staughton's  new  harp  of  gold — he  has 
talked  with  Judson  of  his  sea- weed  wreath — he  has  seen 
Paul  with  his  "  crown  of  righteousness  that  fadeth  not 
away !"  His  wife  has  beckoned  to  him  while  yet  a  great 
way  off,  and  said,  "  Come  in  thou  blessed  of  the  Lord!" 
His  mother  has  bowled  to  loose  the  dusty  sandals  from 
his  feet !  His  grand-child,  Alice,  has  waved  her  green- 
palm,  for  joy  that  he  is  more  than  conqueror  though  him 
that  hath  loved  him!  Above  all,  "The  Lamb  in  the 
midst  of  the  throne  has  fed  him  and  led  him  forth  to 
fountains  of  living  water,  and  God  has  wiped  away  all 
tears  from  his  eyes!"  Kest!  Rest!  O!  Conqueror 
rest!"  The  Lord  of  the  harvest,  has  brought  thee  to  the 
grave  in  hoary  age,  as  the  sheaf  is  gathered  in,  in  its 
season !" 

Eev.  A.  Maclay,  D.  D.,  led  in  prayer;  the  closing  hymn  was  read, 
and  the  benediction  pronounced,  by  Eev.  S.  Eemington. 

HYMN. 

0  for  an  overcoming  faith 

To  cheer  my  dying  hours, 
To  triumph  o'er  the  monster  Death, 

And  all  his  frightful  powers  ! 

Joyful,  with  aU  the  strength  I  have, 

My  quivering  lips  shall  sing, 
Where  is  thy  boasted  victory,  Grave  1 

And  where  the  monster'' s  sting  ? 


51 


If  sin  be  pardon'd  I'm  secure, 
Death  hath  no  sting  beside  ; 

The  law  gives  sin  its  damning  power, 
But  Christ,  my  ransom,  died. 

Now  to  the  God  of  victory 

Immortal  thanks  be  paid. 
Who  makes  us  conqu'rors  while  we  die, 

Through  Christ  our  living  Head. 


APPENDIX. 


'  "Blessed  with  health  and  a  great  flow  of  animal  spirits,  God  was 
not  in  all  my  thoughts ;  but  though  I  had  forgotten  Him,  He  had  not 
forgotten  me ;  and  He  was  pleased  to  visit  me  in  a  dream,  which 
no  changes  of  time  or  place  can  erase  from  memory. 

"I  seemed  to  be  falling  down  a  well,  backwards,  with  my  face 
turned  towards  the  top.  There  I  saw  one  standing,  having  the 
appearance  of  a  man.  His  face  was  fresh  and  ruddy ;  his  eyes,  like 
the  blue  sky,  beamed  with  benevolence,  and  I  recollect  his  counte- 
nance as  distinctly  as  though  I  had  seen  it  but  yesterday.  He 
intimated  his  willingness  to  lift  me  out  of  the  well  if  I  wished ;  but  I 
looked  to  the  sides,  and  looked  down,  and  saw  here  and  there  projec- 
tions of  earth  and  stones ;  and  imagining  that  I  could  lay  hold  upon 
these  and  climb  up  myself,  I  declined  his  assistance.  I  now  began  to 
sway  my  body  to  the  right  and  left,  and  to  make  vigorous  efforts  to 
lay  hold  upon  some  projection,  and  thereby  arrest  my  downward 
course  ;  conscious,  all  the  while,  that  the  being  at  the  top  of  the  well, 
whether  man  or  angel,  was  able  and  willing  to  help — but  I  was 
resolved  to  save  myself.  In  an  instant,  to  my  utter  amazement,  the 
well  immeasurably  widened,  like  the  mouth  of  a  bell,  and  was  lost  in 
the  bottomless  pit.  The  flames  almost  touched  me  ;  my  arms  sank 
lifeless  by  my  side ;  my  sti'ength  was  gone,  my  heart  seemed  to  be 
suffocated  and  ready  to  burst ;  I  looked  up  to  the  good  being  at  the 
top  of  the  well ;  he  stood  there  still,  regarding  me  with  the  teuderest 
compassion ;  in  unspeakable  anguish  I  cried.  Save  me  !  save  me  !  and 
in  a  moment  I  was  at  the  top  of  the  well — I  was  safe !  and  the  terrors 
of  my  dream  all  vanished  away.     I  have  never  regarded  dreams  as 


53 

worth  remembering,  and  yet  this  dream  tokl  me  the  story  of  my  life 
in  such  vivid  colors,  that  I  could  not  drive  it  from  my  mind.  I  was 
oppressed — terrified — at  the  prospect  of  Hell,  and  began  to  pray  and 
read  the  Bible  dihgently."    (Dr.  Cone's  Ser.  to  the  Young,  1844. j 

^  "In  the  month  of  November,  1813,  after  brel,kfast,  I  took  up  the 
newspaper,  and  saw,  among  other  things,  a  large  sale  of  books 
advertised  at  Wood's  auction  rooms,  and  said  to  myself,  I  will  look  in 
as  I  go  to  the  oflSce,  and  see  what  they  are.  I  did  so,  and  the  first 
book  I  took  up  was  a  volume  of  the  works  of  John  Newton.  In  an 
instant,  my  whole  life  passed  in  review  before  me.  I  remembered 
taking  that  book  out  of  the  College  Library,  while  at  Princeton,  and 
reading  Newton's  Life  to  my  mother.  His  dream  of  the  lost  ring 
reminded  me  forcibly  of  my  dream  of  the  well,  and  I  felt  an  ardent 
desire  to  own  the  book,  and  read  the  dream  again.  I  left  the  rooms, 
having  first  requested  Mr.  Wood,  who  was  a  particular  friend,  to  put 
it  up  for  sale  as  soon  as  he  saw  me  in  the  evening,  as  it  was  the  only 
Avork  I  wanted.  He  promised  to  do  so,  and  I  immediately  went  out 
towards  our  office,  which  was  nearly  opposite ;  but  I  had  scarcely 
reached  the  middle  of  the  street,  when  a  voice  'like  the  sound  of 
many  waters,'  said  to  me — This  IS  your  last  warning  !  I 
trembled  like  an  aspen-leaf — I  felt  myself  to  be  in  the  grasp  of  the 
Almighty — and  an  earthquake  could  not  have  increased  my  dismay. 
Sermons  heard  when  only  eight  years  old,  on  the  Balm  of  Gilead, 
and  on  the  Lamb  of  God — the  dream — all  were  painfully  present,  and 
I  thought  my  hour  of  doom  had  come.  I  went  to  the  office,  took 
down  the  day-book  to  charge  the  new  advertisements,  but  my  hand 
trembled  so  that  I  could  not  write,  and  I  put  the  book  back  in  its 
place.  I  went  out  into  South-street — then  walked  up  and  down  Mar- 
ket-street in  the  crowd,  till  dinner-time,  to  drown,  if  it  were  possible, 
my  thoughts  and  feelings.  But  all  in  vain.  The  sound  stiU  rung, 
not  only  in  my  ears,  but  through  my  heart,  like  the  sound  of  a 
trumpet — This  is  your  last  warning  !  I  went  home  to  dinner, 
endeavoring  to  conceal  my  feeUngs  as  much  as  possible  from  my 
wife.  The  day  wore  heavily  away ;  I  was  at  the  auction-room  at  the 
hour ;  purchased  the  book  that  seemed  to  be  strangely  connected 
Avith  my  weal  or  woe  ;  returned  to  my  house  immediately,  and  read 
Newton's  eventful  life  entirely  through  before  retiring  to  rest.  There 
seemed  to  be  some  strong  points  of  resemblance  between  us ;  he  had 
5 


54 

been  rescued  from  the  wrath  to  come !  what  woitIcI  become  of  me  ? 
I  found  that  he  read  the  Bible,  and  obtamed  Ught.  I  went  to  bed 
with  the  determination  of  rising  earlj  to  imitate  his  example,  and 
search  the  Scriptures.  My  dear  young  wife  thought  I  was  going 
mad.  Oh  no  !  no  !  ?  was  not  mad !  He  who  had  compassion  on  the 
poor  Gadarene,  was  now  bringing  me  to  my  right  mind,  in  a  way 
that  I  knew  not."    ( Ser.  to  the  Young,  1844.^ 

3  "I  wished  immediately  to  be  baptized.  There  was  no  question 
as  to  the  right  way.  I  had  read  the  New  Testament  so  thoroughly 
that  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel  were  perfectly  plain,  though  I  had 
not  conferred  with  flesh  and  blood,  or  asked  any  one  what  church  I 
ought  to  join.  Next  day  I  went  to  Bro.  Lewis  Eichards,  Pastor  of 
the  First  Baptist  Church,  Baltimore,  to  inquire  when  I  could  be 
baptized.  He  said  he  would  converse  with  me  on  Wednesday,  being 
then  engaged,  and  let  me  know.  I  called  according  to  appointment, 
and  he  requested  me  to  relate  my  Christian  experience.  I  told  him 
what  God  had  done  for  my  soul.  He  said  if  I  would  come  to  their 
church  meeting,  next  Friday  afternoon,  at  3  o'clock,  he  would  be 
glad  to  hear  me  say  the  same  thing  again.  Accordingly  I  went.  Half 
a  dozen  brethren,  and  forty  or  fifty  sisters  were  present.  The  old  man 
called  me  to  him,  beside  the  Communion  table,  and  asked  me  to  tell 
those  who  were  present  what  the  Lord  had  done  for  me.  As  there 
was  no  other  candidate,  he  wished  me  to  be  particular  in  my  relation. 
I  enjoyed  great  hberty  of  speech ;  my  soul  was  lifted  up  as  upon  the 
wings  of  a  dove,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  should  stay  a  very  short  time  upon 
earth.  With  a  melting  heart,  I  recounted  all  the  way  in  which  the 
Lord  my  God  had  brought  me  out  of  darkness  into  His  marvelous 
light ;  and  the  narrative  was  responded  to  by  sobs  and  tears  from 
many  of  those  who  were  present.  The  Pastor  asked  but  one  ques- 
tion— when  I  wished  to  be  baptized  ?  I  replied,  to-morrow.  He  said 
it  was  too  cold;  the  ice  was  thick,  and  he  was  lame  with  rheumatism. 
Several  members  said — Oh !  try,  Bro.  Eichards ;  we  have  not  had  one 
baptism  for  so  many  months  past.  He  consented.  Many  came  and 
took  me  by  the  hand,  and  bid  me  God-speed.  Some  said,  'we 
have  not  heard  such  a  sermon  as  your  experience  in  many  a  year ; 
the  Lord  will  make  a  preacher  of  you.'  On  Saturday  morning,  Feb. 
4th,  1814,  I  was  baptized  in  the  Patapsco,  by  Elder  Lewis  Eichards, 
the  ice  having  been  cut  for  the  purpose.     It  was  more  than  a  foot 


55 

tliick,  and  the  siDectators,  with  many  of  my  old  companions  among 
them,  stood  on  the  ice,  within  a  few  yards  of  where  I  was  buried,  and 
went  away  saying,  'he  is  mad;  he'll  not  stick  to  that  long!'  In 
coming  out  of  the  water  I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  tell  to  aU  around, 
what  a  dear  Saviour  I  had  found,  but  my  sense  of  propriety  prevented 
me  from  speaking."   (Ser.  to  the  Young,  1844.; 

*  "  In  the  course  of  three  or  four  weeks  (after  his  removal  to  Wash- 
ington, D.  C.)  the  deacon  of  the  little  church  at  the  Navy  Yard  asked 
me  to  go  with  hkn  to  their  Lord's  day  morning  prayer  meeting.  They 
had  no  Pastor,  and  asked  me  to  lead  the  meeting,  and  give  the  httle 
baud  of  twenty  or  thirty,  a  word  of  exhortation. 

"  In  reading  1  John  ii :  1,  I  was  forcibly  impressed  with  the  words, 
'  If  any  man  sin,  we  have  an  advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ, 
the  righteous ;'  and  I  spoke  from  them  without  embarrassment  for 
nearly  an  hour,  to  my  own  utter  surprise.  This  was  my  first  attempt 
to  preach  Christ  crucified  to  my  fellow-men. 

"At  their  earnest  request,  I  agreed  to  speak  for  them  again  the 
next  Lord's  day  morning.  It  somehow  leaked  out  that  Mr.  Cone, 
formerly  on  the  stage,  was  to  preach.  When  I  went  to  fulfill  the 
appointment,  their  Httle  meeting-house  on  the  Commons,  near  the 
Navy  Yard,  was  surrounded  by  an  immense  crowd,  while  within  it 
was  so  full  that  I  reached  the  pulpit  steps  with  difficulty.  This  was 
the  greatest  trial  I  ever  had  as  a  preacher,  in  view  of  an  audience. 
When  I  came  in  sight  of  the  crowd,  I  was  tempted  to  turn  back,  and 
when  I  rose  up  to  commence  public  worship,  Satan  assured  me  that 
my  mouth  should  be  stopped  if  I  attempted  to  preach;  that  the 
cause  of  my  precious  Saviour  would  be  sadly  wounded ;  that  I  had 
.  better  say  to  the  people,  I  was  not  prepared  to  address  so  large  an 
assembly,  and  then  go  home.  The  suggestion  was  so  plausible,  I 
did  not  think  at  the  moment  that  it  came  from  the  great  Deceiver,  and 
I  concluded  to  give  out  a  hymn,  read  a  chapter,  pray,  and  sing  again, 
and  then  determine  how  to  act.  While  singing  the  second  hymn, 
which  closed  with  these  words, 

"  Be  thou  my  strength  and  righteousness, 
My  Jesus  and  my  all!" 

the  worth  of  souls  was  presented  to  my  mind  with  irresistible  force , 
I  never  once  thought  of  the  want  of  words  to  tell  the  story  of  the 


56 

Cross,  nor  of  the  crowd  of  hearers,  but  directed  them  to  Epheslans 
ii :  10,  '  For  we  are  his  workmanship,  created  iu  Christ  Jesus  unto 
good  works,  which  God  hath  before  ordained  that  we  should  walk  in 
them,'  and  spoke  for  an  hour  with  fervor  and  rapiditj.  Wonderfully 
did  the  Lord  help  me  that  day ;  and  I  felt  it  to  be  so  easy  to  preach 
Jesus,  and  I  was  so  ready  to  spend  and  be  spent  in  his  service,  that  I 
consented  to  an  appointment  for  the  next  Lord's-day.  My  third 
sermon  was  from  Malachi  iii :  16,  '  Then  they  that  feared  the  Lord 
spake  often  one  to  another ;  and  the  Lord  hearkened  and  heard  it,' 
&c.,  and  He  gave  me  that  day  a  soul  for  my  hire,  to  encourage  my 
heart,  and  to  strengthen  my  hands — blessed  be  His  holy  name  forever! 
Oh,  what  am  I,  or  what  my  father's  house,  that  to  me  this  grace 
should  be  given,  'to  preach  among  the  Gentiles  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ?"    (Ser.  to  the  Yotmg,  1844.; 


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